


Dungeons and Chains

by morgana07



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Brotherly Affection, Dungeon, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Gen, Hurt Sam Winchester, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Torture, Implied or Off-stage Rape/Non-con, M/M, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Protective Dean Winchester, Psychotropic Drugs, Rape/Non-con References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-30
Updated: 2013-06-03
Packaged: 2017-12-13 10:02:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,105
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/823012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/morgana07/pseuds/morgana07
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>2-shot. After finding a clearly confused and not fully with it Sam chained in their new dungeon, Dean soon begins to learn why his brother’s scared of the chains and also why Sam’s so determined to stay chained up as something from Sam’s year alone returns to try to claim him no matter who has to die. *Limp/ groggy/in shock/hurt!Sam & Over-protective/angry/worried!Deam.* Set somewhere between  08x20 Pac-Man Fever & 08x22 Clip Show*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks for the villain idea goes to Wincesteriffic Kaz.  
> This is another of those confusing warnings so here goes. I’m warning for language since this one does include a couple strong uses of a curse word. I’ll also warn for mild suggestive themes though I’m trying for not to descriptive but there will be mention of forced drug use, abuse, and non-con.  
> This one won’t be as dark as my last piece or I’m trying to keep it that way and as always I will warn on the 2nd chapter if it needs more advanced warnings. This is not Wincest regardless of how Sammy’s dopey mouth was working at times so no fear of that.  
> I’m rating this M for those suggestive themes and mention of certain things since I wouldn’t still feel right at doing a T rating even though I’m not going quite as dark as I did.

** Chapter One **

****

****

It was the odd sense that something felt wrong that first brought Dean Winchester out of a sound sleep. For over thirty years he’s been trusting those gut instincts, especially if trusting them meant keeping him and his little brother alive.

Sam.

Wide awake now, Dean grabbed his jeans, a t-shirt and his .45 while pulling on his boots to go down two doors to check on his drastically health declining brother and felt an odd feeling pool in his stomach at realizing Sam wasn’t in his room.

The trials to shut Hell had really begun to hurt Sam, especially in the last day or so and Sam had been bad enough this night that it hadn’t taken Dean nearly as big a fight as he’d expected to convince his brother to lay down and try to sleep.

There seemed to be something else bothering his baby brother in the past couple days though and Dean figured if he wasn’t already worried about the effects these trials were having on Sam, to trying to stay four steps ahead of Crowley and about sixteen steps ahead of any angels that he would’ve already been all over Sam to find out what it was.

Sam seemed to be having serious memory flashbacks and while he’d been popping up with some that even Dean had a hard time recalling and a few that had sent his eyeballs crawling to the back of his head none of them had seemed too bad…yet.

This time though the older Winchester was starting to wonder what his brother was remembering or seeing since he’d caught the near panicked looks Sam would get occasionally or how he’d just zone out in the middle of a conversation and then nearly jump like he’d been scalded when Dean touched him.

Between the whole panicked/freaked little brother looks to his recently returned with a vengeance nightmares that had Sam screaming and then fighting when Dean tried to wake him up, he was getting some seriously bad feelings that something nasty was creeping up on Sam.

However what was tipping the scales in that area was the fact that Sam had nearly had a full blown panic attack earlier that day while Dean was checking out the full aspect of their brand new and very nifty dungeon in the lower section of the old Men of Letters base.

Dean had left Sam upstairs going through old files and books, anything to keep the kid’s mind busy while he snooped around the dungeon when the next thing he’d heard was Sam’s gasp as his normally calm sibling went from pale and gasping as he looked at Dean with one of the floor chains in his hand to full out panicked in a blink of an eye.

It usually took a lot to bring on a panic attack of this magnitude and to Dean’s memory he couldn’t recall Sam having one this bad since shortly before his deal came due but it wasn’t just the panic he’d seen in his brother’s face that began to get the warning bells ringing.

It was more the dull listless look that came in his eyes after Dean had managed to calm him down and how he’d practically curled into Dean’s arm while whispering things that Dean only heard because he was right by Sam.

“Someone will have their lungs ripped out as soon as I get him to tell me who,” he muttered, a quick but through look told him that no one was inside the base but he also hadn’t located Sam yet.

Then the sounds hit him and with a harsh snarl he was running because in a place this size certain sounds, even ones from well below the ground floor, seemed to echo and the combined sounds of chains rattling and heavy retching had Dean’s own panic levels notching through the roof.

“Sam? Sammy? What the hell are you… _sonuvabitch_ ,” the last word was said in a broken whisper before Dean was across the room to the farthest back wall where the heaviest chains were hooked into the walls and floor. “Sammy!”

Thinking at first that Sam might’ve come down here to try to work past whatever had freaked him out earlier, but one look at the sight before his widening green eyes told the hunter something else was happening here.

Though right then all Dean could see was his pale, only half dressed sick and trembling brother chained in all but one etched binding as he tried to twist to one side was throwing up violently.

“What the hell, Sam?” he demanded, knowing his voice was loud and sharp but the fear shooting him made it impossible for him to sound any other way but the glazed look in the other pair of hazel eyes that appeared nearly black from shock or something told him that it was doubtful if his brother even heard him. “Sam!”

Gasping for breath as his straining lungs fought to draw in air all the while he gagged while whatever had been on his stomach came up, Sam Winchester didn’t notice that he was no longer alone until a firm hand grabbed his shoulder and he fought the reflexive cry that wanted to burst free until the voice that belonged to the hand finally began to trickle in.

“Sammy? Hey, look at me,” Dean stepped up to Sam while refusing to gag at the smell or the squishy sound under his boots since there was no way to get close to his brother without stepping in the mess that not only covered Sam but also the floor.

Looking for both wounds and the chance that maybe someone had gotten in to do this to his brother, Dean didn’t see any obvious injuries and since Sam was only wearing a pair of sleep shorts it was easy to see that his brother wasn’t bleeding nor did he seem to have any new injuries so that put the elder Winchester back to his original question.

“What the hell, Sam?” frustrated but still in the high stages of pure big brother panic, Dean started to reach for Sam’s wrist that was held in the heavy chain. “Damn it. I haven’t checked these yet to see if they work…well they must work…but I don’t know if I can get them unlocked and…”

He’d been about to try to unlock the etched cuff when suddenly Sam shifted as much as he could with only one free hand and grabbed his brother’s wrist in a hold that was frighteningly strong considering how weak Sam was right then.

“No,” he managed to gasp out, trying to regain some breath as the dry heaves had finally appeared to stop. “…De, don’t…”

“Don’t what? Don’t get you out of these damn things?” Dean shook his head, memories of Bobby’s old panic room hit him and the silent vow to never see his brother restrained again shot to the surface. “You nearly hyperventilated earlier just by seeing me touch them and now you locked yourself up…Sam?”

Sam’s eyes were blown until only a slight rim of hazel could be seen but he still seemed aware enough of who was with him and also what he needed to do…even if trying to explain it in full sentences didn’t seem quite in his scope of ability right then.

Letting go of his brother to reach back for the final wrist clamp he made a frustrated sound low in his throat like he would as a toddler trying to do something for the first time and not being able. His next reaction was also like he’d do back then as well.

Turning tear filled puppy eyes on his brother, he tugged at the clamp again while trying to make Dean understand. “…Please…”

It took all of three seconds for that to get through the confusion Dean was feeling and then he was shaking his head, stepping back with both hands up. “Oh! No way. No way in hell, Sam!” he refused when he realized Sam was asking him to chain his free hand to the wall. “No!”

“Please, De,” Sam sounded ragged and hollow but there was something else buried in that voice that truly worried Dean. “I…can’t…get it and need it. I need to be chained up.”

Between the huge puppy eyes, that didn’t have the same effect since Sam’s eyes were mostly pupil right then, the tears and the fact that he was back to using the nickname he had for Dean back before he could fully say ‘Dean’ it was hard for Dean to resist the almost begging pleas.

However chaining his already sick and weak brother to the wall went against the rules, unless the kid was running high on something and as far as Dean knew his little brother wasn’t taking anything stronger than the pain pills he was giving him.

Though the blown pupils, the shaking, the sweats and all of the other things Dean was seeing certainly could lead one to think Sam was high on something or…coming down from something.

“Sam? Tell me what’s going on?” he asked, careful to keep his tone quiet since now it appeared as if Sam was reacting to the slightest raise in his voice as if it were a weapon. “Why do you need…why do you think you need chained up? You having flashbacks to…”

Even the thought that whatever was happening to him now was causing Sam to flash back to his demon blood days and the times Dean had to lock him up to bring him down made Dean sick to his stomach.

Not as sick however as what he heard next did.

“…No, no demon blood,” Sam mumbled, either not aware or not caring about the vomit covering him or how he was shaking as he attempted to get his free hand hooked. “But…need…was bad. Said I…needed to be chained again… ‘minded who I…belonged…oh, God!”

The retching gave Dean a warning to move before Sam tilted to one side as much as he was able and began vomiting again but this time he was trying to talk at the same time and getting choked until a hand grabbed the back of his neck and all semblance of calm vanished with a ragged scream “Nooo!”

“Sam!” okay now Dean was past freaked and confused and had gone into scared out of his damn mind with just a hint of temper. “It’s me, Dean!” swearing as the roughness of his voice made his clearly sick and in shock brother jerk back from both the voice and the hand he’d placed on his neck. “Dude, what in the hell is wrong?”

He’d been handling Sam since the kid was six months old and had never seen anything like this, not even when Sam was high on demon blood.

The closest he could come was the time when Becky had ruffied Sam but even then those reactions after he’d gotten his brother back were tame compared to this, especially since he knew Sam hated to be tied down or restrained in any manner.

Deciding he wasn’t getting anywhere until Sam stopped puking again, Dean made a dash to get some wet towels and some water along with his lock picking set since he hadn’t located the keys for this set of chains yet.

By the time he got back, Sam was almost hanging limply and the panic notched up again as he lightly touched his brother’s neck to feel for a pulse and frowned at how fast it was beating. “Sammy? C’mon, talk to me. Let me get you outta these and…”

A shake of a shaggy head and what sounded like a whispered ‘no’ came when Sam struggled to lift his head up while still clinging to the still unused chain. “Please.”

“Damn it, Sam,” Dean’s heart ached at the sound in Sam’s ragged voice and while he hated this he also wondered if he did what Sam wanted if it would ground his brother enough so maybe he could find out what the hell had brought this on. “Alright, Sammy. Alright, hold on.”

Lifting the heavy manacle in his hand, Dean shivered as the weight of it brought back a flash of his own time in Hell and he quickly shoved that away to focus on his brother when he noticed that Sam had turned his head as if to watch and something in those wide eyes made his gut twist.

Slipping the clamp around Sam’s wrist as gently as he could almost made Dean lose his dinner but he pushed all of that down in order to concentrate on Sam as the sound of the clamp locking seemed to echo in the dungeon and as soon as it locked Sam went limp.

“Hey!” wincing as his boot slipped a little, Dean covered the grimace quickly to grab Sam’s face in both hands in order to tilt it back. “Sammy! Sam, talk to me now! Who told you that you needed…can you tell me what’s going on, little brother?”

Sam stayed quiet for what seemed like hours to his freaked sibling before trying to open his eyes to slits but it wasn’t clear if he knew where he was or who was with him or not.

“Said…I was bad and needed to be punished. That once…I was back…get chained and…beat for days before…” his voice was low, nearly a mumble anyway, but Sam seemed to choke on the final few words and if Dean hadn’t been standing right in front of him he would’ve missed them completely.

As it was a part of Dean was torn between being certain he’d misheard his brother and positive that he’d been ripping something out of someone fairly soon because when the words rim, suck and vibrator all rolled off of his baby brother’s slurred tongue he knew blood wasn’t going to be far behind.

“Sammy? Did you take anything today?” he knew he hadn’t but the slurred speech; the blown pupils had him worried. “You didn’t go out or…okay, bitch face is good since then I know you’re still in your own head.”

Mildly exasperated, Sam’s mind was going in too many directions at once and he couldn’t seem to focus on any one thought except for one. “Warmer here…than there.”

“Huh?” blinking, Dean could see the goosebumps that had covered his brother’s bare skin and could feel the cool dampness on his own skin so how Sam got it was warm was beyond him then he began to put the pieces of this broken puzzle together. “Where wasn’t as warm, Sam?” he asked, moving his one hand from Sam’s neck up to try to unclench the younger man’s fingers. “For that matter, who the hell told you that you were bad and needed to punished before…”

Nope, Dean couldn’t go there. Not with Sam hanging in chains and only in pair of boxers while something was clearly working overtime in the hunter’s mind. “Sam, let me get you out of…”

“Don’t touch me!”

This time the ragged voice hit full panic as Sam tried to both jerk away from the hands that wanted to free him but push toward what he knew was his only hope. “Please, De’n. I have…to stay here cause I…don’t wanna go. I don’t wanna be hurt like that again…I don’ wan’ her to…”

The combined fear and pain in Sam’s voice reminded Dean of other times in their lives that his brother pleaded with him but then it clicked home and whole of Dean switched from worried brother to worried, over protective hunter older brother.

“Her,” he repeated carefully, green eyes locking on Sam’s face to see the tear tracks and forgot about the rag in his hand that he’d wanted to try to clean his brother off with. “Who’s ‘her’, Sam?” he asked, silently vowing to gank that damn obsessed super fan if she’d pulled another stunt. “Becky? Has Becky done something or…”

“…Becky’s…scared of you,” Sam knew that and while the thought of the seemingly harmless girl still sent shivers through him it was the other voice he could still hear, the fingers touching him that nearly made him sick again.

Only his brother’s hand on his neck kept that from happening even though the piece of Sam that was still alert could see the rage building in the back of those same bright green eyes. “Not Becky,” he whispered, not wanting the sip of water from the bottle pressed to his lips but knew better than to refuse as memory and reality mingled for just a moment. “…’Melia.”

The whispered name went straight through Dean but unlike the other times his brother had said the name, though never shortened like this, and he felt the brief stab of betrayal that Sam had chosen a chick over looking for him, this time something turned that betrayal to anger.

Sam didn’t show fear like this often and there was a huge dose of fear mixed in with everything else he could see and feel radiating off his brother right then even if it didn’t make sense.

“When did you talk to her, Sammy?” as far as Dean knew his brother had cut off all ties with the woman when he’d come back the last time.

Dean had finally given in to the fact that his brother wanted out and had given him the option to walk away but Sam had stayed and never mentioned the woman again.

Though for that matter it was after his last encounter with Amelia Richardson that Sam began acting a little weird. His nightmares had started coming back, he seemed to forget things from that time Dean was gone and whenever Dean let out a little dig about his year of normal while not looking for him it seemed like all Sam wanted to do was either run or curl up.

“Sam! When did you talk to her again?” he asked again when it was clear his brother’s eyes had glossed over too much and wouldn’t answer unless pushed, which never usually brought good things for either of them.

A small version of Sam’s bitch face appeared but left it as he moved in the chains but there wasn’t a lot of give which seemed to actually relax him.

As relaxed as a guy could appear while chained to a wall in a dark dungeon in only his boxes while surrounded and covered in his own vomit could be or so Dean figured while noticing that Sam’s gaze had shifted to where his cellphone laid on the floor across the room.

“Didn’t talk to…her, De’n. Don’t wanna talk to her,” Sam seemed to shake harder as something came back to his mind and it was only the chains that kept him standing when his body looked like it wanted to bow in the middle as if was protecting himself. “Stoopid…voicemail.”

Sam’s tone was dropping and the second his brother began messing his words up Dean knew something was going on and a sinking feeling, the same feeling he had when his baby brother had been a cocky sixteen year old who thought he knew everything, began settling in his stomach.

“Stay here,” he didn’t think how stupid that sounded until Sam offered a smirk that showed how far in shock he was since Dean knew his brother wasn’t drunk.

“Chained…can’t go anywhere,” Sam shot out, giving another tug then whimpered and closed his eyes as if trying to force whatever memory was there away. “Hate chains,” he muttered, opening his eyes to try to see his brother through the fog of whatever was in him right then. “But…don’t mind being chained….if you’re here.”

Dean nearly lost his balance as he was bending over to snatch the phone up when that comment came and it might have been comical to him any other time, especially when he glanced back to see Sam had his scrunched up face of utter concentration on while sticking his tongue out to do…the older hunter had no idea what the hell he was doing and wasn’t sure he wanted to right then.

“Um, okay well unless you have some serious kink issues that I haven’t known about in all these years I think we might have to talk about that later,” he replied, blowing out a breath while adding with a mutter. “Much much later when you’re back to your own sweet and bitchy self.”

“Huh? Noooo, not like that…pervert,” Sam tried to roll his eyes but only half succeeded. “Meant…I feel safe being…chained up with you. Cause you won’ hurt me…won’t make me…do stuff or…”

Narrowed eyes shot up to look and immediately caught the way Sam’s eyes had moved down so that his lashes were covering his eyes but the tone and the way his brother’s hands were clenching into fists told him to get him the hell off this subject and onto safer ground.

“Well then we’re back to the kinks cause if I find out you let anyone chain you up and made you do stuff then after I kick their asses I’ll kick yours, Sammy,” Dean was trying to figure out the contraption his brother called a phone and almost missed the next whispered comment.

“I…don’ think…I let her…exactly. And that’s…why I have to stay chained…here so…she can’t find me and make me go back.”

The same creepy feeling he’d had when Sam was sixteen was turning his blood to ice when he finally found the voicemail section to notice several recent ones from the same number and took a stab in the dark. “How many times she call you?”

“Uhhh, sixteen I think,” Sam wasn’t sure what he was looking at but he knew how he was feeling and so decided to stare at the walls or the ceiling but not the floor since it was sort of gross. “De’n? Can I ask you anything?”

Snarling at the phone and swearing he was buying Sam a nice simple one, Dean didn’t immediately catch the question and nearly tossed off a basic ‘yeah’ when something pulled him back. “That kinda depends on what it is,” he’d known from the time when Sam was eleven and just noticing things that giving his brother an open pass on questions often led him into trouble. “What?”

His heart still racing from his body’s reaction to those damn messages and the fear they’d instilled in him, Sam tried to focus on his brother’s deep voice and the knowledge that Dean was in this room with him…unlike that other room when it had only been him and…her or mostly just her.

“You and Caleb ever…do it?”

“We did a lot of things so be a bit more specific, Sammy,” Dean replied, deciding to try to get his brother to drink more water before listening to what had been said that had caused this reaction in Sam. “Sip while I try not to break this thing.”

Tossing a small scowl that was without heat, Sam took a sip from the bottle while considering with a brief burst of childhood innocence to blow bubbles but a warning look made him swallow as his question returned to him with a nod. “Dad always said Caleb was horny enough to fuck anything, human, vegetable, mineral or Wendigo and you guys hunted a lot together without me or Dad or Jim so…did you guys ever have sex?”

“Ex- _cuse_ me?” the water bottle dropped from Dean’s limp fingers, bouncing on the cold concrete floor and he made a grasp to keep the phone from following suit as his eye brows nearly crawled back on his forehead while whirling to face to strangely calm chained up little brother.

Dean now recalled why he hated it when his brother got drunk, stoned, drugged, or whatever the hell was wrong with him this night.

Normally Sam knew what to say or what not to say but when he reached a point like this anything he thought of, good, bad, or both would come pouring out of his mouth…which is why Dean had always gotten the kid drunk when needing him to spill his guts about something.

This time however Sam had managed to floor his big brother and it took several stunned seconds before Dean found his voice while shaking his head back and forth in a negative gesture. “No, no, no, _NO_ ,” he refused, swearing once he got Sam back to normal that he’d kill him for this. “That is so not what Dad meant and hell, no. Caleb wasn’t a chick, dude and chicks are the only thing your big brother’s into as a general rule.”

“…Cept for that time…in Dallas?” Sam let his eyes drop again so he missed the hard clench of his brother’s jaw but even as confused as he was right then he knew this line of talk would make his brother run and he didn’t want to be down here alone. “Sorry, De.”

“You don’t know anything about that, Sam,” Dean still refused to recall the time he’d been eighteen and needing a fast buck to feed his brother until their Dad got home the next day after being a week overdue but right then Sam had his head spinning in to many directions and it was hard to focus as he figured out how to work the phone and heard the first message come to life.

He’d never seen the woman up close, had never heard her voice before now but as he listened to Amelia Richardson speak.

At first the messages didn’t seem to be anything but a sad, lonely and almost desperate attempt to convince Sam to come back to her.

As they went on every message seemed to get darker with much more explicit wording. Words that made Dean step away from his brother as if to shield him from the woman’s voice but as she went on his eyes shifted to lock on Sam and didn’t move.

Listening to them all, Dean went back to listen to the last few so he could be sure that he wasn’t misreading what he thought he’d just heard.

“‘ _Why don’t you pick up, Sam? You know you want to. You know you want me and you know the longer you put this off…put me off that harder I’ll make it when I get you back._

_“‘Sammy, pick up. You’re being a bad boy, Sam. I’ll have to punish you when I get you back. Remember how much you fought the chains for the first week or so, Sam? How you bucked in them the first time I drugged you and used that vibrator on you before I sucked you off while you tried to beg for your brother? I’m going to do so much worse to you this time, baby._

_“‘Sam, I’m tired of playing this with you. I told you before that you were mine and nothing, not your brother or my husband, will keep me from having what I own. That’s my mark on you, Sammy. I bet you can still feel where I put that little brand on his hip as I rimmed you while you hung so beautifully against those rough walls in the basement before I let my assistant have a turn. I’m so close I can feel you and I’ll own you again soon so come to me. You can’t resist it, Sam. Even though the drugs have lessened in you…you can resist it when I order my pretty little slave to come to me. I’ve texted you the address of a nice little place where we can be alone and play…Excalibur.’”_

Forcing himself to take several deep breaths in order to even see past the fine film of red haze that had misted over his eyes as it slowly sank in just what the woman was saying and suddenly why his weakened little brother was reacting like being chained in their new dungeon was his only salvation.

“Sammy?” he knew his tone was jagged, more husky than usual but he couldn’t even begin to find a normal one as he slipped the phone into his own back pocket while slowly stepping closer to where his brother was still chained. “Look at me, Sam.”

When Sam didn’t move except to try to drop his head lower to avoid what he assumed would be in his brother’s eyes he first felt a firm grip on his jaw to lightly nudge his chin up but it wasn’t until he felt the other hand lay on the right side of his waist that his eyes, still glossy, popped open.

“No…no…De’n, let go,” he tried to say but nothing came out of his suddenly dry mouth but a whimper as he noticed the firm look in his brother’s eyes then his body reacted on instinct to try to move away even as the waistband of his boxers was slid down just enough to bare his right hip. “Dean! Stop!”

“Sammy, I’m not going to hurt you. I’m not going to…” Dean had to focus on gritting out the next part because even the thought of it, of Sam being afraid of that, made him sick. “…touch you.”

These were the shorter chains which gave Sam almost give to move as he wanted to deflect his brother’s hand when it hit him what Dean was looking for and couldn’t hold in the whimper as a light touch just brushed over the jagged small brand on his hip.

“A.R.?” Dean could still see what was on Sam’s skin even in the dim light of the dungeon and felt the snarl that was working its way out of his chest. “The goddamn bitch branded her initials on you?”

It was suddenly hitting Dean that since he got back from Purgatory that he’d hardly seen Sam without a shirt on or if he did it was only his chest and never his back.

Things were beginning to pop now that the elder Winchester didn’t much care for as he seen the way Sam’s chest was heaving again and how tense he was as he now tried to twist in the chains until a hand laid on his chest right over the anti-possession tattoo and Sam began to calm again.

“Sam, I’m going to ask you a couple things and right now I just want you to either nod or give a yes or no reply, alright?” deciding if he pushed too much right then that they’d both probably break, Dean knew he needed to see how far this went before he could decide how best to help his brother.

Letting the waistband ease back up to cover the brand, Dean picked up the bottle of water to lightly press it to Sam’s lips and for a moment was afraid he’d have to force his brother to drink but nodded as Sam slowly drank in a few gulps as if to soothe the burning in his throat.

Taking his time to douse one of the rags he’d brought with water he carefully showed Sam the cloth before beginning to wipe some of the drying vomit from his chest and not missing the pained whimper or the light scar that ran across the muscles of Sam’s stomach.

“How long between when Cas and I got sucked into Purgatory did you get sucked into the Black Widow’s web?” he asked, this time making certain to keep his voice pitched lower while considering what else he’d heard on the messages.

Since he knew his brother needed to know he wasn’t alone but wouldn’t stand being touched too much right then, Dean stepped up close enough so that Sam would feel him as well as hear him while cleaning his up a little.

Waiting to see if Sam would answer him, Dean didn’t miss the pressure on his shoulder as Sam let his drooping head rest on it. That was also the only way Dean would’ve heard the response since his brother’s voice was nothing but a whisper now.

“One month, fourteen days, seven hours and forty-eight minutes. I…looked for you, De’n.”

A little of the sting of betrayal left Dean as he stepped just a little closer so Sam’s head could rest more easily while gently moving the hand that wasn’t using the cloth to lightly touch the back of his brother’s neck like he used to.

“You hit the dog on your way through that town to follow a lead, didn’t you?” he asked, feeling the shudder but not saying anything about it and just waited to feel a slight nod. “You took the dog to the clinic for help and that’s when she first nailed you, right?”

Sam had a soft spot for any animal and Dean knew his brother would have been wracked with guilt for hitting a dog and if he hadn’t been sleeping much his defenses would have been down even more which would explain how this seemingly harmless woman had gotten that close to Sam.

Another short nod but as it seemed like the closer Dean got to the point of this exercise the tighter Sam was getting as he turned his face so he could bury it against his brother’s neck like he had a kid running from nightmares.

The mention of drugs easily explained how the woman had got Sam to go with her since Dean wasn’t stupid to think that someone with training as a vet wouldn’t know the right drugs to use to douse someone with so he skipped that question.

“She drug you, Sammy? Is that why you stopped looking because this bitch drugged you and chained you up in a basement to…” he felt Sam bite his lip and could feel the hot tears through his t-shirt while letting his hand move to run through hair slicked with sweat. “Sam…I know what I think from what she said on those messages but I need you to give me a reply this time. Were you…raped?”

The moment he felt his little brother’s whole body go rigid and heard the sob muffled by his own neck, Dean dropped the cloth to force Sam’s face up and saw the glassy eyes that looked so broke when he merely mouthed a single word. ‘Yes.’

But the second a flash of anger lit in Dean’s eyes Sam tried to reach for him but couldn’t and shook his head. “But…I fought it…fought her even though she said not to. She told me to stop but I didn’t so she did what she had to then…I stopped fighting cause it hurt too bad and the drugs made me…” he had to suck in a breath before rushing on, trying to make Dean not be angry at him or leave right then.

“I…I wanted you, I just wanted to find you but she said I…was meant to be hers and she didn’t start using the full drugs for about a week cause I…think she liked seeing me try to break free, to fight it the first time she…turned me and used this…thing and…” Sam broke off in shame, trying to turn his face only to feel the strong fingers tighten enough to keep his face turned towards his brother. “De’n…I’m…but I gave in. I couldn’t fight it anymore even though I knew I wanted to so…it wasn’t…rape then, was it?”

Dean had been hustling in bars long enough to know the types of drugs that were available these days that made the victim feel just like Sam was describing and he also had enough experience to know how easy it was for a skilled sociopath to make his or her victim believe they deserved the treatment and had given in to it.

His little brother was a walking, talking example of long term exposure to drugs and abuse. Sam was smart, hell he was smarter than Dean or so he let people believe and Dean knew his brother should know this but the fear, loss, and shame shining from this too huge mostly pupil hazel eyes were saying this bitch and whatever the hell else she’d done to Sam had really fucked with his head.

“You really think so, baby boy?” he offered a soft smile while gently brushing at the tear tracks staining Sam’s face with his thumb. “Sammy, she drugged you and regardless of if you stopped fighting or not you weren’t in control. By the time I called you she’d had you doused and conditioned to believe whatever she said but…you’ve been away from her so…”

That was when something else dawned on him. “What does Excalibur mean?” he asked, frowning at the way Sam’s whole body jerked and he hissed sharply between his teeth like he was in some form of agony. “Sam?”

“Don’t…don’ say that, please?” Sam’s teeth were clenched and only Dean’s body was keeping the younger man from actually trying to slide down the wall even though with his hands chained he couldn’t move much. “Too hard to move…to think after…God, it’s like she’s still controlling me or…”

A light bulb went off in his head and it all began to click with Dean. Between the drugs, the abuse, being dependent on Amelia or whoever else she might have had with her, it was no fairly clear to him that the damn bitch had also managed to sneak a trigger word into his brother’s subconscious and it was that word that must have set Sam on this path of locking himself down here to try to fight it.

“Hey, Sammy?” he forced Sam’s head back up to lock eyes with him. “It’s gonna be alright. I’m going to take care of you and this,” he promised firmly in the tone that he only used with Sam when his brother was scared.

“How?” that piece of Sam that was fighting, clawing, for control sounded doubtful since he didn’t want his brother to leave him much less to go near Amelia. “She’ll find…I don’t wanna go with her, De.”

Biting the inside of his lip to cover how the break in Sam’s voice was hurting him, Dean’s smile turned a bit darker while lightly squeezing the back of Sam’s neck but pulled back at the hiss and realized just how deep the woman’s hold really was. “You trust me, Sam?”

Slight bitch face came as even feeling as hurt and confused as he was that seemed like a stupid question to Sam. “Always…trust you, De,” he whispered, not feeling the pain as bad as his brother’s fingers began to lightly squeeze his neck. “Why?”

“Cause to do this I’m going to have to leave you here,” Dean was already grabbing the straining shoulders before Sam could fully lose it at the thought of being chained down here alone. “Hey, hey! You won’t be alone, Sammy. I wouldn’t leave you here by yourself like this.”

“No…don’t wan’ nobody ‘cept you,” Sam sounded like he had as a cross toddler but Dean smirked. “Don’t want Garth or…Kevin or…”

Rolling his eyes at either of those suggestions, though calling Garth would be the smartest thing in this case, Dean shook his head while pulling Sam’s phone back out to go through the list of numbers. “I’m not leaving you with them, little brother,” he reassured Sam, keeping his hand on Sam as he heard the phone ring a few times before it was answered warily. “Hey, where are you?”

Dean blinked while refusing to even ask the question that came to mind while carding his fingers back through Sam’s hair and noticing that Sam was slowly drifting to sleep though he hated to see the kid sleep like this. “Well, I need you to ditch the harem, your royal Highness and get your cocky hacking butt back here cause I need to do something and you get to Sammy-sit.”

Listening to the squeak of surprise that got he sighed. “Charlie, Sam’s in a bad way and I can’t leave him but I can’t take him near the bitch I plan to gank now just get here and I’ll explain it,” he tried not to snap at the young woman who was nearly as big a geek as his brother but she made it so hard not to at times. “Um, no. The whole height and weight thing won’t exactly be an issue this time and you’ve got two hours cause I need this over as of yesterday.”

Disconnecting the phone, he checked the text to see where the bitch had decided would be a good place to resume hurting his brother to sneer.

The address was only about a day away if he pushed the Impala but he knew he’d do that and whatever else was needed to try to put an end to this, even if it meant breaking one of the few moral rules he still allowed himself to have because this little demented vet had made the same mistake so many others had made over the years.

She’s put her damn hands on his baby brother and while that would’ve been bad enough given what she’d clearly done but to drug Sam and make him doubt himself, to try to control him in the way she was had pushed all of Dean’s buttons in a way that usually promised a slow and painful death.

“…no…stop…” Sam whimpered in whatever sleep he’d drifted into but the strain showed on his face as his full weight put too much pressure on his arms and shoulders.

A look at the chains sowed Dean that while he couldn’t release Sam at the moment he could lengthen the main chain on the wall hooks so at least Sam could ease down into a slouched position even if his arms were still slightly over his head.

“It’s going to be okay, Sam. I’m going to make this better,” he spoke softly, while trying to ignore the whispered pleas that came from his brother as his cloudy mind brought back those memories that he’d been either burying or that had been buried for him. “I’ll fix this and hopefully your bodyguard doesn’t blow this place up while I’m gone.”

Dean eased down to the floor next to Sam so he could be there with his frightened sibling as long as possible before Charlie came and he could go to pay a visit on the person who’d kept his brother like a toy for over a year.

Seeing his knuckles go white as he clenched his fist, Dean pushed the hate aside for the moment in order to plan because to make certain Sam was fully free of this influence he’d have to work fast and quick.

“She pays, Sammy,” he murmured, unaware of when his voice went dark and only aware of what Sam was saying in his sleep and how he was twisting as much as he could. “She pays big time.”

 

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Language, of course but I’ll also toss in one for descriptive descriptions. Nothing too major but there are a couple. Also, Amelia fans…yeah, you won’t like this one so maybe avoid.

** Chapter Two **

 

 

Stealth, creeping around dark places without being seen or caught and knowing the right weapon to kill whatever creepy thing that popped up that week were things that Dean Winchester had known all about since he was first old enough to hold a weapon and kill something on a hunt.

His childhood had ended at four years old on the night his mother died on the ceiling of his brother’s nursery. Though in Dean’s opinion his life as a hunter began at ten years old when he killed his first monster while protecting his baby brother.

Protecting Sammy, looking after Sammy, dying for Sammy had been Dean’s mantra pretty much all his thirty four years.

He’d heard all the jabs and snotty comments about co-dependent crap but all he knew was that regardless of the fact that Sam was four inches taller than he was or how many issues had come up between them, Sam was still his little brother and he’d always protect him.

The few times he’d failed to protect meant Dean had to fall back on his other belief that anyone who hurt his little brother needed to have something vital ripped out of the bodies.

That was what kept swirling in his head now as he finished looking around the carnage in the old warehouse in a nearly abandoned shipping factory area.

Protecting Sam and making certain whoever had hurt his brother wouldn’t be around to do it to anyone else had been huge in his life for as long as he could recall. This time it was a bit more personal as he wiped his bloody knife off on the jacket of a body on the floor.

Both males had been shot, one outright and the other in the kneecap and both before the hunter had even stepped foot in this sadists dream of an adult entertainment playland.

The decorations and ‘furniture’ had turned his stomach from the second he’d view it through the starlight scope of the high powered sniping rifle he very rarely used but as either a hunter or a big brother, no one would say Dean Winchester was a fool.

He’d known his target wouldn’t come here alone even though she expected Sammy to be strung out on whatever the hell she’d done to his head during those long eleven months she’d had him with her in Texas.

Seeing the two guys built like linebackers hadn’t surprised him but it was what he learned later on that had and it was that knowledge that now brought him to this moment.

Dean had another side to him, one that he’d kept carefully hidden behind a wall of cocky arrogance and swagger. A side that very few people had seen and one he’d made damn certain to never allow his brother to see surface.

Even when he and Sam had been younger, Dean had a temper that could go dark and lethal when he let go of too much control or Sam was hurt.

His time in Hell, his time with Alastair had only deepened that temper as well as honing it to a razor sharp edge. He’d learned, seen and done things in Hell that he still wouldn’t reveal to Sam and he’d buried those urges after getting out.

Only once had he fallen back on those skills and that hadn’t been on his own doing. This time however after taking all he could, after hearing what he had, Dean had let those walls drop and had embraced that dark temper for the first time in close to four years.

The man who’d taken such pleasure in bragging and posturing in order to distract the hunter had ended his bragging on a gurgle of blood after seeing why it wasn’t such a good idea to bring Sam’s name up while Dean was already pissed off.

Lifting his eyes from the blade in his hand to across the room to a wall that had been littered with various styles of chains and restraints he slowly met the widening brown eyes of who had hurt Sam in a way that Dean wasn’t even certain he could help him heal from.

Standing to step over the body of the man he’d killed with such cold detachment that a piece of Dean wondered if he shouldn’t be worried, he held the knife steady but made certain Amelia Richardson could see the edge on it.

“Your turn, bitch.”

** Twenty-Four Hours Earlier: **

“Um…okay. Did you guys develop some kinks or something from the last time I was here or this is whole chaining your half naked brother to a wall thing new?”

“No…no, and actually Sam mostly chained himself up before I got to him,” Dean admitted, not missing the small blush on the girl’s face as she looked between him and Sam. “Charlie, don’t make me regret calling you.”

Charlie Bradbury was still at a loss as to why Dean Winchester had called her in the first place. “Dude, I’m not a hunter…even if I can shoot almost as good as you and what is up with the whole dungeon theme anyway?” she wanted to know, standing outside the door to try to take in as much as she could without actually going in. “I can think up some really cool scenarios but…”

“Get it out of the gutter,” Dean still squirmed a little at the wicked little smile on the petite redhead’s face but then decided to suck it up since that was one of the reasons he’d wanted her to be with his brother.

Sam would be uneasy and more than a little scared right then considering he had a head full of memories about a time filled with nothing but shame and pain and his body was trying to fight him to follow through with the hidden orders a damn trigger word was causing.

He was only alright if Dean was with him but for the elder Winchester to do what needed to be done to help his brother this time it required leaving and there was no way that Dean planned to leave his sick, shaking, barely with it sibling chained in their dungeon alone.

That’s what brought Charlie back to the base because if Dean was going to leave Sam alone with anyone right then it would be her because out of all the people in their lives, the ones still living that is, the petite little firecracker of a girl would be the only one he’d trust with Sam and that he figured Sam would feel safe with.

Especially since Charlie was the only female they knew that didn’t look at either of them in any way other than friendship and it was safe for Dean to say that he and Sam had sort of accepted her into their little dysfunctional family as the closest thing to a sister they were going to have.

“If we get out of these trials and I get Sam’s head back on straight from this I’ll let you house sit one hunt and you can play in the dungeon,” Dean decided he didn’t need those images since he still had the ones from walking in on her making out with another chick in his head. “Now, can we focus?”

Blinking bright eyes up at him, the smile turned serious as a sound from Sam reminded her that she was here on business. “So…care to tell me what’s happening and what I’m supposed to do?”

“In a nutshell, while I was MIA in Hell’s backyard it seems like some nutcase vet with a kink for chains, drugs, and BDSM got her hands on Sam and did a number on him,” Dean moved into the dungeon with a bottle of Gatorade and a rag.

“She must’ve gotten bored with her husband cause last night she called Sam’s phone and left a few…interesting messages. One of ‘em included a trigger word that she must have gotten into his head and he had enough strength left to fight it while locking himself down in here,” the hunter didn’t like how warm Sam seemed now as he knelt down to place the cold cloth on the back of his brother’s neck and frowned at the moan.

Catching the phone tossed to her, Charlie read through the messages with her eyes going wider with each one before narrowing. “Bitch,” she muttered with a huff, watching as Dean tried to get his brother to sip but Sam seemed to either be unconscious or ignoring Dean. “Hypnotism or something else?”

“I’d say the first one if she hadn’t branded him but it’s not making sense how a vet would know how to do anything major,” Dean was trying to split his attention as he heard Charlie whip out that tablet thing she carried with her…the one he knew Sam was trying to justify the expense to get himself one and his limp, fevered brother who hadn’t been even semi-lucid in hours.

“Her Dad spent some time in Haiti so she might’ve picked up some stuff down there or knows someone who did,” Charlie wished this room had a more light but coped as best she could since this is where she was planning to stay for the foreseeable future. “Also, is it just a weird fluke that she shows up to get Sam back just a week after her husband shoots himself?”

Glad he’d cleaned the floor up as Dean fell in his haste to whirl back to the girl. “Come again. What’re you talking about and how the hell would you even…God, I hate that thing,” he mumbled, looking at the screen as Charlie came closer and he read the announcement of Don Richardson shooting himself after suffering from severe PTSD.

Seeing the frown forming, Charlie sat down with her legs crossed while tapping to bring up something else. “Now, that’s the ‘official’ word but unofficially the local cops suspect that the guy didn’t off himself because the scene was too clean, the note too perfect. They want to talk to his wife but…it seems she’s dropped off radar,” she looked up. “Guess we know why.”

“We seriously need to find you another hobby,” Dean couldn’t find fault in her logic but then dropped his gaze when he felt Sam move a little. “Hey, you waking up a second?” he asked, making certain to keep his tone level despite how badly it wanted to shake at how glassy and lost Sam’s half opened eyes appeared.

It took Sam a couple minutes before he seemed to know who was with him and his tense body relaxed again but he still refused the liquid. “…Hurts…to bad,” he whispered, jerking as Dean touched the chain. “No! Don’t let…”

“I’m not letting it go, Sam,” Dean assured him even though every part of him was shouting to do just that because chaining his brother up like this went against his inner big brother side. “I just want to make sure you can move a little while I’m gone.”

“Gone?” Sam looked lost as that sank in until it must have hit him why his brother was leaving and the panic set in. “No, De! Don’ go there. She’ll…hurt you and then you won’ come…back and…”

Catching Sam’s face to keep him from jerking it back and forth and possibly hitting his head, Dean held it still until he could hear Sam’s breathing slowing down. “The only way to help you is for me to deal with her, Sammy and hey, the day your awesome big brother can’t deal with some vet is the day we talk about retiring,” he replied, keeping the cockiness in his voice. “I said I’d make this right and I will but you have to trust me.”

Blinking cloudy eyes through a haze of pain and memories, Sam nodded a little before letting his head rest back against the wall. “I…trust you,” he murmured, no doubts about that since his brother was the only person he ever would fully trust.

“You sure I can’t just hack into one of those satellites upstairs and maybe drop a laser beam on her ass?” Charlie had been struggling to hold back tears as she watched the Winchesters and it tore at her to think of some kinky bitch hurting Sam like this. “Or maybe just drop an actual satellite on her so she’d go poof? Not as painful but equally…what? I’m a gamer so I have…an imagination.”

Dean wasn’t quite sure if the girl was kidding or serious because Charlie was a lot like Sam in that way and he hated it. “Alright, if you can’t play nice I’m taking that thing off of you,” he warned, deciding just by the look in her eyes that perhaps she wasn’t quite joking and considering some of the things he’d seen her do on a computer that worried him.

“I don’t need the damn FBI on my ass again so no hacking into government computers while I’m gone,” he ordered firmly, squeezing Sam’s arm to get his dim attention once again. “Charlie’s gonna stay with you while I’m gone, Sammy so anything you need or want just tell her.”

For a moment with the way Sam tensed it looked like he might argue but slowly as he kept his eyes locked on Dean’s as if seeing in that gaze what his brother wasn’t saying out loud before letting his gaze shift just enough that he could see Charlie.

Since meeting the Winchesters, Charlie had seen some weird stuff and nearly been lunch for some weirder stuff but it was seeing how pale and almost fragile Sam looked chained against a wall in a dungeon in only some boxers that began making some things she’d learned about them make more sense.

She liked to think her boys were the super strong heroes that despite the danger, despite the injuries nothing got them down. She’d seen how bad Sam was looking the last time she’d been with them but now, as she crouched down to be more at eye level with him she couldn’t believe how much worse he seemed.

“Hey, Sam,” she murmured quietly then silently chided herself for feeling so awkward when she wasn’t the one chained to a wall in boxers with some nut job trying to play at mind control. “You look like shit.”

Dean ran his tongue over his teeth to try to hide the grin then held his breath as his brother shifted more until he was sitting up fully to force his eyes to look at her.

“…Too late…for Garth?” Sam asked him softly but despite how he must be feeling and how hard it was for him to focus a small half smile came. “Hi, Charlie.

“Garth hugs too much and hugging is so not what will help you right now,” Dean tried to make it sound light but there was no disguising the deep concern he felt when he caught the way Sam’s body tried to curl up when it seemed Charlie got too close. “Sammy, this ain’t Becky. You know that Charlie won’t hurt you,” he murmured, letting his fingers card back through Sam’s hair a few times until he felt him relax again. “She’s probably the only female on the planet that’s I’d trust you with like this.”

“Hey, watch it!” shooting Dean a glare, Charlie smirked. She understood why he wanted her to be with Sam and that was fine with her. “You know I’ve read some of the stuff that so-called super fan writes and I can safely say I would be the envy of most of her readers for being in the same room with a dopey and chained Sam Winchester. You’re lucky Becky’s more type.”

It never failed to amuse her when she could get a reaction out of the normally stoic Dean. She especially adored when he blushed…not that she’d ever risk telling him that. Of course she also couldn’t resist asking something else while he was keeping his focus on Sam before leaving.

“Dean? Can I ask you…something?” she asked, all sweet and innocently and knew that Dean was distracted when he merely let out a grunt.

Sam, on the other hand, seemed to have heard something in that tone because one eye lifted then he began watching his brother and friend.

“You know I read all those books about you guys…especially the one with the monster truck and the whole full…” Charlie was quick to hide her grin as a pair of green eyes shot up to shut her up with a glare. “Just kinda curious how much Carver Edlund…exaggerated in…areas, y’know?”

As Dean vowed to once again burn those damn books and find Chuck long enough to kill him even if it meant resurrecting him, he heard a muffled giggle and a snort, fighting not to snarl. “Shut up, Sam,” he warned, tone dropping dangerously low but his brother’s fever and current issues had put Sam back into a slightly loopy state of mind.

It was the state of mind that Dean hated because he never knew what would come out of his little brother’s mouth next and he sure as hell didn’t need Sam giving Charlie more ammo.

“At least…she didn’t ask…if you and Caleb had done it,” Sam snickered, too tired and hazy to catch the way Charlie’s mouth dropped or how his brother seemed to be counting to a thousand when his brain changed course again to zero in on the girl. “Charlie…Becky’s bad news so you don’ wanna…”

“Okay, so he’s off again,” Dean sighed, giving Sam’s shoulder a gentle squeeze instead of what he felt like doing as he got to his feet while jerking his head toward the door. “As you can see, he’s basically harmless like this and he can’t get out of those cuffs.”

She guessed she should’ve been a little worried about being alone with Sam when he was barely with it and towered over her normally but as she glanced back to see that he’d let his head drop so this chin was resting on his chest again, all Charlie could feel was a huge surge to protect.

“What do I do?” she asked, noticing that Dean had been watching her in silence as if waiting for her to say that she couldn’t do this. “Hey, I fought a Djinn who tried to make me its lunch or something, Leviathans and some screwy nut, so you better not smirk, buster.”

Getting a sharp finger poked in his chest could have made the hunter laugh but the fierceness in the little redhead’s eyes made him relax a little. “You know where most everything is, including the kitchen. You can set up a little table outside the door if you want to play on Sam’s laptop or that thing of yours…no hacking missile sites, so you don’t have to be in the room if it freaks you out,” he wasn’t certain what would freak Charlie out these days but didn’t want to take the chance. “He should be okay so long as he knows he’s not alone totally and once I leave he might not talk at all so just occasionally try to get him to drink something and let him know you’re here.”

Mentally writing down those orders and the half a dozen other ones she knew Dean would never say aloud, Charlie chewed her lip at a sudden thought. “What if he…you know…has to…”

“I’ll worry about that when I get back and clean him up cause he probably will throw up again since he’s sick and if he dreams too much, thoughts of her come back and he pukes so that’s my deal once I handle this,” Dean hoped it would be that simple.

A large part of Dean wanted to forget this and stay with his brother but the other part realized the only way to help Sam was to deal with his past and that meant going to have a little face to face chat with the bitch that had hurt his brother and had nearly come between them more than even Ruby had.

“Sammy, be good for Charlie and maybe I’ll buy you one of those tablet things she has,” he waited to see if there was any response but only heard a slight whimper as the damn memories were coming back to Sam. “Call me if he gets worse and…I’ll call you when it’s over.”

Dean reached for his jacket when he looked down at the light touch to his arm to see Charlie watching him. “He’ll be alright, kiddo.”

“Make it hurt?” she asked, clearly not caring what Dean planned so long as the people responsible for hurting Sam bled.

“That’s my plan,” he promised, giving in to her hug while letting his hand rest on her hair briefly before stepping back. “Oh and if anyone named Garth calls…don’t tell him where I went.”

Nodding, Charlie started to turn when she whirled. “Wait! I don’t know where you’re…damn it,” she looked between the hall and dungeon proper before sighing and going in to sit on the floor a little bit away from Sam. “So, I’ll tell you my life story and you can tell me all about yours and Dean’s.”

She knew Sam wasn’t coherent right then but had already decided that she wasn’t going to sit in some comfy chair in the hall while he was stuck chained to some cold wall and just hoped Dean could handle this without losing his temper.

** Twelve Hours Later, deserted factory area, Kansas: **

 Dean wasn’t as good on the computer as his brother but he knew how to get out of one what he needed when he had to.

Using his GPS to figure out what kind of area Sam was supposed to be meeting Amelia in, he took the time to actually look into the area and what surrounded it.

He’d figured it was a safe bet that it would be in an isolated place with little to no people around it because something in his gut just told Dean this chick was the kind who liked a lot of noise with her sex games so it was a shock that the factory was set literally in the middle of nowhere.

Parking the Impala two miles away to avoid anyone hearing him, Dean took what he thought he’d need with him and had to hide the smile when he caught sight of the old water tower across from the building.

Spotting the large van along with a smaller car, he wasn’t aware of the frown that had formed because it shouldn’t have been a surprise that the woman was alone either. He needed to push down the sour taste building as he wondered just what game she had in store for his brother.

Letting his hand curl into a fist the hunter had to also fight against his basic instinct to charge into the building to put an end to Sam’s suffering. The more he thought at Sam the more intense that urge became until he stepped back a little to allow the hunter to take over.

Dean had been taught by an ex-Marine and one of his Dad’s first lessons had been to never let your emotions rule you during a hunt.

To hunt you needed to be calm, to stay focused and not let your emotions get the better of you because those were ways good hunters got to be dead hunters and Dean had too much to do yet to become one of those.

So with a lot more focus that he thought possible right then, he easily scaled the ladder to the water tower to set up the gear he’d brought that he and Sam hardly ever used.

The long range microphone hadn’t been used since…well he tried not to think of that because that brought back memories of Bobby and he had enough dark feelings swirling right then to need more, but it would give him a better idea of who was in the building, how many and where they were so his other item would be of use.

John Winchester had trained both of his sons to use any number of weapons they either had or came across but it had also quickly become clear to the former Marine that each of his boys had his own strengths.

While Sam, even with his reluctance to hunt, seemed to excel with knives it had been guns that Dean had taken to. Give Dean a gun and he could master it.

Sniper rifles didn’t often get used in hunting but Dean still kept on in the trunk of the Impala just for that off chance of needing one.

He didn’t need the tripod but he used it this time because he wanted any shot he made to be steady and depending on what he heard he couldn’t promise that his hands would stay steady enough to hold the rifle.

Especially when the earpiece in his ear began to buzz and voices filtered in as he used the scope to look in the high windows which were placed so that he could still see a little if the person walked in the center of the room.

“You sure he’ll come?”

“Of course he will, Dale. My Sammy’s been so well trained that he can’t not come to me…well, not once I used the trigger word I implanted in his subconscious after finally breaking him and before binding him to me.”

Dean’s lips pulled back in a snarl as he heard the woman’s voice when it hit him what she’d said and wanted to groan.

Hypnosis he could’ve handled. Hell, even a minor little voodoo spell he probably could’ve broken without too big an issue but blood bindings were a pain in the ass.

Not to mention he had very little experience with trigger words except to know they were bad news but he knew how susceptible his little brother could be to things because he’d had Sam clucking like a chicken for a week every time someone said egg.

It had been a harmless prank he’d played on his twelve year old brother while bored at Bobby’s one day but it hadn’t been fun when Sam cried after figuring it out and then Dean was forced to admit to the prank to their Dad after not being able to undo it.

Dean had willingly taken that punishment if only to help Sammy and he’d handle this now to do the same though it would be someone else being punished for screwing with his brother.

“You boys just remember that you’re to help me contain him in the either the chain or the cage until I start reminding him just who he belongs to,” Amelia was speaking again, the tone much too prim and proper as the sound of chains rattling grated over already tense nerves. “I’ll drug him as I go but I want him in pain to start with because he was very bad by running away.”

“You got enough toys in this place?” this voice was also male but deeper seemed amused. “Thought you liked using your hands on your boy?”

Amelia’s laugh was like broken glass as the scope of the rifle finally brought her into view. “Oh, I do, Jerry,” she sounded far too amused for Dean’s liking. “You remember what he was like back in Kermit. How he fought, tried to make it seem like he wasn’t already mine and even when the drugs finally kicked in the way he fought me.”

“Sugar, you had a studded glove on and you fisted that boy. He could’ve been in a coma and I reckon he’d have fought you that time,” the deeper voice chuckled. “Course now I losing work coming to help you so are you gonna share him this time or not?”

“I let you have some basic fun with him, Jerry and I might after he’s broke and begging again but for now all I need you boys with is to help me get him to that point,” she chuckled. “He should be here soon since by this time his whole body is probably on fire because once I activate the trigger it’s only so long before his body goes back into that full hard on stage I always kept him.”

Blood running like ice now, Dean’s temper was spiking as he listened to what was being said and how calmly the woman was discussing how it was when she’d drugged, tortured, raped and hurt his brother.

It was when the other man talked about what he’d do to Sam if he got the chance that it was enough. The moment the man’s too bald head came into the scope, the faintest brush of Dean’s finger caused the rifle to fire and he didn’t wait to make sure the shot was good before adjusting his aim a bit more for the next one and shot again.

Knowing the confusion that the two rapid shots would cause inside would also give him the time to get to the ground, pull his handgun and get inside, Dean was moving quickly even as he heard a faint scream which also gave him a clue as to how soundproof this place was.

Dropping both the rifle and microphone where he could grab them on the way out, Dean’s mind wasn’t even fully aware of how dark his thoughts were going as he jerked open the only door in the building and going in low to fire at the first movement he sensed.

It was that move that saved his life because he’d actually expected the two shots to have startled the woman. So he wasn’t expecting the spiked bat to swing at his head.

“ _Sonuvabitch_!” he hissed, feeling it whistle over his head while coming up to grab a thin looking wrist and twisting it hard to hear a scream before shoving hard. “You’re a dead bitch as it is so don’t give me another reason to make it quicker than I planned.”

Dean’s Colt 1911 was steady as it aimed at the shocked, in pain face of Amelia Richardson and for the first time he got to see the woman up close and frankly wasn’t impressed.

As someone who has been enjoying women since probably long before he should’ve been, Dean liked to think he was a good judge and easily pinned this one down with a quick look.

She was probably around the 5’7” range which meant his brother would’ve towered over her if not drugged or confused most of the time and she probably did top out at above a hundred ten pounds so that would explain why she’d need help.

Her long curly black hair was currently in her face but Dean had glimpsed enraged brown eyes right before she’d tried to take his head off and he supposed she was pretty in a way, especially for his brother who hadn’t really been with a steady girl in far too long or…one at all in a while since Dean refused to think on his time without a soul.

“Who are you?” she screamed, clutching her wrist as the bat was kicked away and the .45 didn’t waver as it aimed at her heart. “You’re making a mistake! You’re…”

“No, actually I made the mistake when I didn’t gank your damn ass the first night I learned he spent a year with you and I bought the excuses,” Dean remarked quietly, green eyes glittering as he shifted to look around him.

The bald man was dead on the floor with the shot through the front of his head while the deeper voice son of a bitch was laying a few feet away clutching his knee and yelling from the pain.

Silently pleased that both shots had hit, Dean was almost going to just shoot the woman when the main room itself caught his eye and he went cold, hot then ice cold again as he raked his now narrowed eyes around the full area.

He was totally unaware of the snarl that was coming from his chest or how numb he was becoming; if he’d been aware of either then Dean would’ve known his carefully controlled temper was starting to fray.

While the old factory shell still looked like what it once had been, a good part of the interior had been changed to resemble something out of a deranged sex club in some bad porn film.

Actually, as Dean slowly let himself look he decided that this passed up the bad porn in a huge way and was closer to reminding him of Hell in too many ways.

Two walls were covered in chains of varying length, weight and design. Some were only hooked to the wall for hands but others, most of the others, had corresponding floor chains but he also saw a few that had extra hooks or restraints and he knew from hard experience that those were for total restraint.

Jerking his eyes away from the chains, he continued to look toward another space and this time heard the growl rumble as he took in the cages but he had to get away from them when something drew his attention.

The collar on the floor must have been what Amelia was holding when he shot her one buddy. “You are one sick piece of work,” he mused, stilling keeping his .45 trained on her while leaning over to pick it up when one look at the attached name tag had his entire system going into overdrive and rage.

“Don’t touch that, bastard!” Amelia shouted, eyes furious as she looked toward the bleeding Jerry for help but he seemed too busy moaning in pain. “That belongs to my…”

Not even aware that he’d moved until he was yanking the woman from the floor with his gun in her face while shoving her back against the closest wall, his handsome face now a mask of fury. “He’s not _your_ anything,” he snarled, green eyes flashing as he wanted to wrap that collar around her throat like it was plain she’d planned to do to his brother.

The dog collar that was still clenched in one hand was made of heavy wide leather and had obviously seen use by the way it felt worn under his fingertips but it had been the attached name tag that had finally pushed the hunter over the edge.

‘Sammy’ had been engraved in it and her name on the back listed as the owner pushed his last nerve as he grabbed a wrist restraint with a cool look. “You liked to use this crap on my brother. Let’s see how you like it, bitch.”

Still stunned at this intrusion of her perfectly laid out scheme, Amelia gasped as this stranger quickly had her chained up against the wall in little time and with little effort. “You’re…where’s my Sammy?” she demanded, letting out a small cry when a strong hand gripped her face in a hold that was sure to bruise.

“Don’t. Call. Him. That.” Dean gritted, hating that this woman would spoil even that because while normally Sam hated that nickname it had gotten so that he’d only allow his brother to call him that and now he wasn’t so sure about that. “You don’t even say his name and Sam is far from here. He’s far away from you and that’s how it’s going to stay.”

“He belongs to me now. We’re bound to one another and you can’t stop that,” she sneered, her pretty face now taking on a look of pure hate. “Give him to me or I’ll kill you and take him anyway. I own him! I…”

Reaching for the first thing he could grab, Dean shoved a hard ball gag into her mouth just to shut her up before he lost full control and stepped back to turn with the .45 point down. “Uh-huh.”

Jerry has managed to tie off his bleeding knee and decided to try to get behind this asshole who was ruining the plan when he froze as those hate filled green eyes pinned him. “You…you don’t…wanna do this, boy,” he began tightly, his leg in agony. “You let us go and…huh. She said the boy’s brother was dead.”

“Sam didn’t know what I was and was looking for me when this bitch decided to go Fatal Attraction on him,” Dean’s attention was now on the man since he knew Amelia wasn’t going anywhere for the moment and wanted to see just what this asshole’s role was. “Were you there?” he demanded, wondering just what the hell else had happened in those eleven months. “I heard you say that she…”

Laying back on the floor to gaze up at this tall rugged young man, Jerry let his eyes roam. This one wasn’t as tall or as muscular as the boy had been but he had the lean hungry look in him. “Yeah, I was around some of the time,” he admitted, smirking. “Especially at the beginning when she was just breaking him in. He was a big one and even chained up or drugged she needed a little muscle at times to control him…like the night she stuffed her fist up that tight ass and…ugh!”

Dean’s knee went down hard on the guy’s chest as his fist flew three times in rapid succession to strike his jaw but pulled back before actually breaking it. “You don’t want to piss me off more, asshole,” he warned tightly, ignoring the sounds of chains rattling and the muffled enraged scream behind him. “Getting a bullet in the knee and probably the head is the least I can do to you so don’t push this.”

Jerry was a big man. He knew he was about as tall as this punk but he had him outweighed by a good seventy pounds but scowled as he was quickly restrained in a pair of handcuffs that he knew had come from Amelia’s cart of toys.

He’s seen the way this guy’s temper shot to the surface at any mention of his brother’s treatment at Amelia’s hands and guessed he could still get the upper hand if he pissed him off enough to lose his cool and focus because one he unarmed this dick then he’d give him a taste of just what he did to that boy.

“You really wanna know what we did to that boy of yours?” he asked, hearing the click of the .45 but ignoring it. “You want me to tell you how he screamed for the first month or so whenever he wasn’t jacked on drugs? Or how he begged for you or for her to let him go? Maybe you’d rather hear about that it took two of us to hold him down the first time little Amelia rode him or how she jacked him off with that vibrator shoved up his ass?”

Jerry could hear the ragged breathing coming now and knew the punk was close to losing his temper. “After she branded him and did whatever the hell it was she did, he still fought us cause she wanted him broke without having to use the drugs all the time. Y’see, Amelia has a kink for owning and she owned that boy in all ways.

“I loved to sit back and watch the things she made him do to himself all because she ordered him to. Oh, it was plain that he was fighting in his head but that hot body, all hard muscle, moved when she said to,” he chuckled, licking his lips while keeping his hooded eyes on the young man now shaking as he knelt on his chest to pin him.

“She made him open himself up dry more than once. My favorite was when she chained him up while he was crouching with a spreader between his thighs, one of those huge vibrating plugs in that tight ass, a cock cage to keep him hard, some nipple clamps and she wore one of those nifty double dildos and fucked his mouth.”

Jerry heard the sound of teeth clenching and knew it was only a matter of time before the grip on his cuffed wrists loosened enough so that he could overpower the guy and had the perfect last jab. “He had this ratty picture of the two of you in his wallet, y’know. After she was done with him, she made him suck off us off while she held that picture up so he could look at it while all four of us took turns with that mouth,” he ran his tongue over his lips again. “Tell me, did you ever have a taste of that fine…agh!”

So busy with his lewd and obscene descriptions the man missed the subtle change that came over Dean as he fought to ignore the words, the images they made him see in his mind but it was the last question that finally did it and succeeded in pushing him over a very tight edge.

However it wasn’t the result that either Jerry or even Dean expected because instead of the white hot fury that had been clouding his vision and should’ve ended up in him losing control of both his emotions and his ability to think straight the results of all the goading and bragging brought a cold, calm feeling.

Feeling his fingers close over the man’s throat in a tight grip, Dean slowly recognized this eerie calmness that had slipped over the burning rage. He’d felt it the last time on the night the Angels had forced him to torture Alastair and he’d felt it for his last ten years (one month human time) in Hell.

“Mistake,” he whispered, pressing down harder on the man’s chest as he shoved his .45 into his belt to pull out his hunting knife. “That was a huge mistake.”

Watching the sudden change come over the boy suddenly shook Jerry’s confidence because he’d been expecting rage and pain to lash out but now all he saw were glittering rage in bright green eyes but the mask that had come over his face was one of perfect calm.

The only real sign of Dean’s fury was the slight twitch of a muscle in his jaw but his hand that held the knife was perfectly steady as he cocked his head a little.

“You like to brag what you did to my baby brother? You enjoy the pain and the fear you freaks caused in him? You get off on his pain?” he dragged the tip of the knife down the man’s cheek to press it into the hollow of his throat. “You thought by telling me all of that crap, pissing me off that I’d slip up and you’d get loose? No way in hell, asshole.”

Dean knew his temper was past the point of no return and he was aware of what piece of him was in control now but as he debated locking it down again he thought of Sam, his little brother that he’d been protecting all of his life and the images flooded back along with every other time Sam had been hurt by some loose cannon and let the cold rage carry over.

“You and your buddies, the sick bitch over there, get your kicks like that? Kidnapping some poor guy, drugging him and torturing him until he breaks? You thought Sammy would be just like that because he was alone? Grieving and confused?” another hard crack with his fist had a satisfying sound of something break along with a scream as the point of the blade pierced his shoulder. “You have no idea what he is or what he’s been through.”

Not paying attention to the clumsy attempts to push him off or the shouts of pain, Dean’s mind was back on Sam. What he’d seen, what he’d heard and finally what he could imagine and Dean’s got a great imagination so it doesn’t take much to figure out what else had happened to his brother while he was in Purgatory.

The remains of those feelings of betrayal left him as a bigger sense of guilt slid into him because Dean knew he should’ve seen the signs of abuse, the signs that Sam almost always had after being hurting too badly and in certain ways but he’d been top ragged, too on edge and too angry to let himself see that.

He’d let Sam think that he wasn’t a good enough brother for him, that he’d let him down and the whole time the kid had been living in a nightmare.

“…Let…go…” Jerry gasped, jaw a mess that he could barely talk but it didn’t stop the scream as the razor sharp blade sliced down his chest with just enough pressure to draw blood. “What…you…doing?”

What was Dean doing? He wasn’t certain since he knew what he could do. Hell, he knew he could peel this asshole’s skin off and leave him alive while doing it. He knew he could remove the eyes that had leered at his brother as he was being abused with just a useful flick of the knife blade.

Dean knew he could do any number of the tricks he’d been taught in Hell and God knew he accepted this asshole deserved it but it wasn’t the man who’d first drugged Sammy. No, he knew who deserved that treatment and so with a snarl and a well-practiced twist of his wrist the knife flashed against the man’s throat and he stepped back to eye Amelia.

“Your turn, bitch.”

Chained to the wall, none of her rage had subsided even as she watched her toy’s brother calmly and almost professionally kill Jerry before turning those glittering eyes her way.

A piece of Amelia chilled at the look but her anger at not having Sam back made her too stupid to know not to open her mouth when the gag was removed even through the edge of the bloody knife touched her throat.

“Tell me how to break the binding,” Dean ordered, voice deeper than normal and harsh, unlike his own even when pushed past furious. “Tell me what you did to him and how.”

Wetting her lips, she considered making a lewd comment about exactly what was done to his brother but the dark look glowering at her and the fact that all of Jerry’s bragging hadn’t caused him to snap gave Amelia a little warning that Sam’s brother wasn’t in a playing mood.

“You can’t break it,” she replied, voice low and almost breathless as she moved in the restraints holding her. “Dropping the trigger word was easy once he’d started to break. He was drugged senseless one night and I implanted it so that every time he heard that word he’d get hard and know it was time to serve his purpose. The binding though…that was more…fun.”

Amelia tried to bow her body out from the wall to touch her twisting legs against Dean’s hip, laughing as he stepped back with a look of pure disgust. “I branded him then cut him and drank his blood while giving him some of mine,” she appeared quite pleased with that memory. “He’ll never be free of me and no matter how hard you try to protect him I will have him again because eventually not obeying the orders will kill him which is fine since if I can’t have him…no one else.”

In all his years of hunting, of hustling, and of dealing with the weird and crazy this had to be the first true time that Dean could admit that he was feeling filthy just being in the same room with this wild eyed woman.

Amelia had been the one who in her depraved obsession with his brother had drugged and hurt him in ways that Dean wasn’t certain if he knew how to help Sam heal from and he knew she deserved a slow, agonizing death for the pain and trauma she put his brother through.

Dean knew that and he wanted that. He wanted to hear her beg and scream as he was certain she’d made his little brother beg and scream. It wouldn’t have been the first time that he’d used those damn dark skills on a woman since when in Hell you torture whoever gets put in front of you, another thing he’d kept back from Sam.

He’d done it before and the fury in his blood was pounding that he do it again, to use the knife in his hand to slice that pale skin off while using some of her own toys on her but a sick piece of Dean had a hunch that the woman wouldn’t care.

Learning to read people was a must in his life and Dean could read this one like a used book. No matter the pain he caused her, no matter what he might do to her she wouldn’t care.

She was the type who got off on the pain and the toys. No, he’d have to find a way to hurt her that would count, a way to really get to her while he tried to find a way to cut whatever link she had to Sam.

“I want to kill you so bad right now. I want to do to you what you did to my brother but I’m not that depraved or sick in the head,” Dean remarked, feeling the edge of his adrenaline wearing off even as his head was telling him the only way to break a blood binding.

“You held my brother against his will no matter what you made him believe and God knows how many other guys you’ve done this to plus there’s the matter of some cops in Texas wanting to talk to you about your husband’s ‘suicide’,” he smirked while staying out of kicking range. “I’m going to wipe this place down and before I leave give the locals a call. I’m pretty sure the cops will have a field day with you and locking you in a nice quiet cell will keep you from ever bothering Sam again.”

“No!” her scream echoed in the building, jerking her hands. “You can’t keep him from me! He wants to be with me! He’s so desperate for attention that he’ll do anything for anyone…though maybe that’s why you want him all to yourself!”

Dean stopped, making himself slip the knife away to pull his .45 back out just to have it in his hand. “Sammy’s my baby brother and I love that kid more than I do my own life but it’s only sick little freaks like you who’d take Sam’s pain and use it against him,” he aimed the Colt one final time. “I will say this once, come near Sam again, call him…if you get out of jail in the next fifty years, or bother him and I will kill you.”

The promise was plain and her death is still want Dean wanted but no matter how much he felt like letting that side of him loose to do what he’d been taught in Hell to do, the woman was human…a sick one, but a human and he’d only killed a couple of those in his life.

“ _Bastard_!” Amelia refused to lose what she felt was rightly hers.

She’d spent eleven months training Sam, punishing him, making him respond to her every demand with only a few tears or refusals and she’d be damned if his arrogant stuck up brother would take that away from her.

Dean was wondering if any of this could be traced back to him or Sam when the sounds of chains rattling, a muffled scream then something clattering to the ground had him turning. “ _Sonuvabitch_!”

The shock of seeing that the woman had actually managed to twist her hands enough that she was able to pull them free from the cuffs, losing several layers of skin in the process, was one thing but the razor sharp stiletto blade she’d pulled from the cart of equipment changed the game completely.

“Sam’s mine and I’ll have him!” she rushed toward the man she saw as a threat to her happiness, intending to shove the knife into his heart. “You will never keep him from me! I’ll kill you and take…”

The threat of danger, the threat to Sam kicked in even as Dean’s arm was bringing the .45 up, cocking it and the shot that fired seemed to go all through the old factory even as it went through the woman’s chest.

Her own forward movement kept Amelia’s body moving before it gave out and she fell to the ground, landing on her own knife when it shifted in the shock of being shot.

Wide eyed and with blood trailing from her mouth, she looked back up once. “…Forever…”

“No. Sam’s free,” Dean whispered, letting his arm drop while still staring at the now still body of the woman who had hurt his brother and still would have if she had lived.

Killing a non-supernatural thing always left Dean with a different feeling. It wasn’t that he hadn’t killed before because he had, usually to protect his family but this time…this one didn’t leave him with that feeling and he thought he knew why.

Amelia wouldn’t have stopped. She was so twisted in the head that no matter what happened, unless she’d been locked up for good, she always would’ve been a threat to Sam and that was something that Dean wouldn’t have allowed.

Plus, her death would also serve to sever the blood link or at least Dean silently hoped it had as his first instinct was to get the hell out and back to his brother in case the severing of the link hurt him but again that damn hunter side stepped in.

He had a building with three dead bodies and that would make the news for sure and also bring in the Feds and on top of closing Hell and handling whatever else came that was not something Dean needed or wanted so he pulled his phone out with a sigh and dialed a rarely used number these days.

Waiting to hear the gruff but wary voice answer, he sighed. “Jeff…it’s Dean. I…I need help.”

 

**TBC**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I know, I know. It was supposed to just have two chapters but…I think it deserves a third one. Thanks to everyone who had read this and look for CH 3 soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Minor language and towards the end there may be some mild(compared to the other chapters) descriptions but nothing too bad.

** Chapter Three **

****

****

“Sammy!”

It had been a long time since Dean Winchester could say that he’d been this freaked out. The last time that he could recall that his heart had felt this way, like it was going to beat out of his chest, was the night his little brother got stabbed in Cold Oak and had died in Dean’s own arms.

Running down through the Men of Letters base, Dean was now pissed off that it seemed to have gotten a lot bigger since he’d been gone, in his urgency to get back to the dungeon and to his brother.

Sick panic was building the closer he got and he couldn’t hear anything from the room. The newly discovered dungeon now seemed as dark and hateful to Dean as the old Panic Room had when he’d been forced to lock Sam down in there.

“Sam!”

Charlie’s panic had been palpable when she literally ran into his upstairs and he had barely understood every other word she’d said until he’d gotten her calm enough to get a partial story and all of the concern the hunter had been feeling since killing the root of Sam’s torments this time hiked up several notches.

Knowing the dungeon didn’t have any real source of light in it yet so with the door shut that would have engulfed both the room and his already upset sibling into total darkness and despite everything in his life if there was one other thing besides restraints that Sam didn’t care for it would be total, pitch black darkness.

Skidding into the storage room, Dean’s hands instantly went to the two heavy shelves that served as both door and cover to the dungeon to pull it open while silently impressed that Charlie had even managed to get them closed.

Going to step in, he was hit first with the smell and it took every ounce of his strength not to gag. Dean had been around the smell of a lot of bad crap but the combined odors of sweat, vomit, urine and what else there was made him shift gears as something else hit him. Silence.

There was utter and complete silence coming from the darkness. There were no gasps, no moans or groans, no sounds of breathing whatsoever and by touch only Dean quickly reached for the Coleman lantern he knew should be by the door.

Lighting it, he allowed his eyes to adjust while breathing through his mouth to avoid the pungent smells when his gaze moved to the back of the room where he knew his brother should be and all focus and coherent thought fled his mind to only leave him with…

“ _Sammy_!!”

** Less than Ten minutes Earlier: **

Panic. Fear. Worry and a dose of straight out terror was shooting through Dean Winchester as he tried to push the legal speed limit as far as he dared right then since the last thing he wanted or needed was to get pulled over for a speeding.

A trunk full of weapons and a plastic bag of bloody clothes in the backseat would not be a good thing to get stopped with, especially not when he needed to get to his brother.

The ringing voice was still echoing in his ears even after five hours of getting the panicked phone call from Charlie.

“‘ _Dean! Get your butt back here! Sam…Sam’s seized once but now he’s screaming for you and throwing up and…he wants loose then he doesn’t and…oh crap!”_

The cut off call and the fiery little redhead not answering when he called back for the sixtieth time had Dean’s nerves more strung out than they had been when this mess had started only now he was worried for two people.

Dean had thought that there was no way Sam could get out of those damn chains but after seeing what he had earlier and knowing how his brother could be when seriously sick or fevered…or out of his head, now he wasn’t so certain and he pushed his speed more.

He’d hated to wait at that factory but felt he needed to until Jefferson had arrived. The older man had been a good friend and a hunter before he stopped hunting actively but still knew how to handle situations like the elder Winchester had found himself in.

After giving an edited version and a carefully screened excuse for what happened in the room, Dean endured a mild lecture before Jefferson sensed his nerves and told him to change clothes then get going and he’d handle getting rid of the evidence.

“Shit!” tossing his phone on the seat, Dean felt relief as he pulled up in front of the old Men of Letters base and was partially relieved to still see Charlie’s beat up car parked where it had been but also felt apprehension as he quickly unlocked the door. “Charlie?”

Hearing something from deep within the place, the Colt was out in the time it took Dean to cross from the main entrance and down the steps to go toward the stairs that would take him lower and hopefully find his brother and… ‘Charlie!”

Only long ago learned instincts had Dean able to pull his arm back and hit the safety on the weapon as he was suddenly hit full force by an animated whirlwind with bright red hair.

Charlie’s arms had both locked around Dean’s waist and he found it hard to hear the rush of words since her face was buried against his chest while also trying to tug him forward.

“…you…gotta…damn it…he’s…Sam…hurt…tried to…stopped him but…Dean, go!”

Finally able to dislodge the girl’s arms from around his waist to ease her back to arm’s length the first thing that caught the hunter’s eyes were the wide red rimmed tear filled eyes then the dried blood on her hands caught his attention and he was soon trying to look her all over for wounds.

“Damn it! What happened?” he demanded while looking for bruises or wounds as if expecting the worst until a fist lightly hit him in the chest and he pulled his gaze but to her face.

She looked upset, a little scared but mostly angry with him for not paying attention to her. “Quit that and get down there!” she snapped, trying to push the taller man toward the door that led to the basement. “He’s stopped making noise and…”

“Stopped making…Charlie, what happened?” Dean feared he knew what had happened but if his brother had broken loose then she should have more bruises. “Sam still in the dungeon or do he get loose?”

Shaking her head, she wrapped a strand of hair around her finger like she did when nervous while casting worried looks back toward the door. “He was mostly quiet in the beginning then he’d look like he was dreaming and he’d start to shout, then puke. He didn’t want me in there for that but I stayed cause…hey, he’s my responsibility.”

Thinking back to the last few hours made her frown more and a frown on Charlie’s normally happy face told Dean it must have been bad.

“I got him to drink some water but then…it got weird, Dean,” she huffed out a breath when realizing that he wasn’t moving until he knew more. “He seemed to calm down so I thought he’d sleep but then it was like someone threw a switch and the next thing I knew Sam was seizing and screaming for you.

“The chains kept him from thrashing too much but then once he came out of that because every time I touched him it got worse he at first wanted me to let him loose which I said absolutely no way to,” she rolled her eyes at even the thought before going on, stilling tugging on Dean’s arm. “The next thing I knew he was sobbing and begging me to tighten the lengths so he was standing up but held tighter. I…didn’t want to but he was freaking out which was freaking me out so after I figured it out…I did and Sam…”

Hating even the description of that and guessing he was getting the glossed over version since she was in a hurry. “Then what did he do?” he asked warily, having a guess as to why Sam would want to be held tighter despite his aversion to restraints. “He pass out or…”

“No, he calmed down a little after he was standing and I’d gotten those damn things as tight as he seemed to want them then…then he told me to get out and close the door. To not come in until you got home and said it was alright. I didn’t want to leave him, Dean but he seemed so scared and confused,” she sniffled a little because it still bugged her that she hadn’t done what Dean had asked her to do. “He started screaming as if he was in agony but it’s been quiet for the last hour and a half so…get your butt down there!”

Guessing that the blood binding had come undone with Amelia’s death and that was what caused a good chunk of his brother’s reaction, it only took him a couple seconds more to figure the rest out and then he was jerking his jacket off to let it fall as he broke into a full run.

“Get him some clean clothes out of his room, take ‘em to the shower room then…stay up here cause this won’t be pretty,” he called over his shoulder to Charlie then was gone with only one thought sprinting through his mind.

“Sam!”

** Dungeon, Now: **

“ _Sammy_!”

Swallowing hard, Dean ignored the smells and whatever the hell he was slipping in on the floor in his haste to get across the room to where Sam was hanging limping in the chains attached to his wrists.

A swift look told Dean that when his brother had Charlie shorten the length of the chain he’d had her actually go tighter than what it had been before so when Sam had passed out, ‘ _please let him just be passed out’_ his wrists were literally stretched well above his head and out a bit from his body which put a lot of strain on Sam’s shoulders and wrists.

With the way the chains were fastened now and with Sam’s height, he was currently hanging limply from his wrists but only the lower part of his bare legs touched the floor which again left him with his full weight on his wrists in this position.

“Sammy! Damn it, answer me!” Dean refused to think about what was on the floor or his brother as he quickly struggled to bring Sam back to a standing position but had to grunt at the dead weight in his arms while feeling how cold Sam seemed to him now. “Sammy, c’mon, man…wake up for me.”

Dean got his brother to his feet but had to try to keep him standing when his legs kept wanted to fold back under him so he quickly wrapped an arm around Sam’s waist, feeling the sticky residue of vomit and he refused to think what else, while he reached up to fumble with the wrist cuffs.

Since they hadn’t fully had a chance to go through all the things in this room yet, he was just hoping the key to the other cuffs, which had been a pain in the ass to find, worked on his set or he was screwed because he sure couldn’t hold Sam while trying to cut his brother free.

Feeling Sam’s drooping head land on his shoulder as he strained with the extra weight and with the cuffs, Dean felt a strong burst of relief course through him at the soft little breaths he felt against his neck. “Hang on, Sammy. I’m getting you out of these damn things and I swear, dude, once you’re over this I am so not letting you in this damn room again,” he muttered mostly to himself since he could tell by how Sam was just hanging that his brother wouldn’t be conscious for some time yet.

The first restraint came loose, forcing Dean to quickly adjust his stance to avoid tearing Sam’s already bleeding wrist or wrenching his shoulder out of place while trying to reach the last one when he heard a small sound that he couldn’t recognize if it was a word or just a moan.

A click was finally heard and then the hunter just grabbed a hold of his brother’s limp body but instead of easing down to the floor, Dean shifted his grip enough that he was able, with only a little strain, get Sam over his shoulders since he knew he needed better light and even without the smell he knew his brother needed a shower.

Careful not to jostle Sam too much, Dean gritted his teeth. He could remember the days that he could do this without so much as a wince or lost breath and that was even after Sam decided to grow four inches taller than him.

In the time Sam was soulless however his little brother had put on considerable muscle since Dean swore all the kid did was exercise and while Sam had lost some of that, especially in the past year that this event had taken place and he’d been losing some weight due to the effects of the trials, he had to silently admit that his baby brother was still heavy as shit.

“Char…never mind,” he’d started to shout for the girl to turn the shower on but he already heard the water running and could feel the air in the hallway change to go with the added heat of the hot water.

Dean made another mental note to himself to thank Charlie when he caught sight of clean clothes for both of them sitting on the counter along with towels and the first aid kit and then he was testing the water before judging that it was just hot enough for what he needed without being too hot that it would scald Sam’s skin.

Being careful to keep a tight grip on Sam as he lowered him to the floor, Dean didn’t worry about his clothes or Sam’s already shot boxers and after blowing out a breath eased his brother under the heavy spray of the shower.

Knowing there was no way to do this without getting soaked himself, Dean just shrugged it off since this wouldn’t be the first time he’d gotten soaked while trying to give his little brother a bath or a shower…though it had been awhile and the first thing he remembered was that Sam was hell in the shower. Or he normally was.

As soon as the water hit him, Dean honestly expected to get a fist to the face or any other part of his body his confused sibling could reach but when Sam just stayed limp in his arms the concern began coming up.

Letting the water run over them for a moment, it soon became clear that Dean was not going to be able to hold Sam up with one arm like he used to in order to use his free hand to wash him. So he resorted to Plan B and simply eased to the tile floor under the shower head with Sam leaning up against him.

“You are so gonna owe me for this one, Sammy” he muttered, grabbing the bar of soap and washcloth and quickly set to work trying to get his brother reasonably clean so that the rest could wait until Sam was conscious and could do this himself.

It took several minutes of hard work to get most of Sam clean as he gently moved the cloth, he touched Sam’s hip and heard the first sound of life as Sam seemed to whimper.

Remembering that was where the brand of initials had been, Dean carefully eased the soaking wet and ruined boxes down while moving enough so that he could see the damn brand and let out a sharp breath when he seen just the faintest mark on Sam’s hip now instead of the deep embedded AR.

Letting out a whispered ‘thank you’, he continued to clean, being extra careful as he wiped the blood away from Sam’s ankles and wrists, a sure sign that his brother had fought the chains either during the time that the blood binding was going away since Dean expected that had to have hurt Sam a lot and probably scared him since he wouldn’t have known why it was happening.

Seeing that the wrists were in worse shape, Dean cleaned them as best as he could with soap and water and would dress them once he had his brother dried and in bed but was glad that nothing appeared to be bleeding.

He was also glad that Sam’s body seemed to finally be warming up under the hot water as he gently shifted so that Sam’s shoulder was touching the wall so he could just give a quick swipe over his back, Dean stuck his tongue in his cheek at the sight over several little scars that littered those wide shoulders and knew they’d been gained during that lost year.

“It’s over, little brother,” he murmured quietly, running his hand over the scars before glancing down with a sigh. “The next time I want you to wash the Impala you damn well better not give me one ounce of lip after this either, Sam.”

A swift pull took the boxers down with a brief thought to burn them later when he felt himself stop, green eyes narrowing at the mixture of scars that litters his brother’s upper legs, inner thighs and…Dean’s brain turned off after a look at Sam’s rear end showed him what the hunter swore was a scar on his right butt cheek of someone’s mouth.

Shoving down the feeling of regret that the woman had died much too quickly and from not enough pain, Dean finished the rest of the wash job before giving Sam’s hair a good scrubbing then let the water run over them both, while hoping that it would finish washing the pain away for his brother.

Dean waited until the water started to run cool before reaching up to shut it off then grabbed for some towels. Wishing Sam would show some response, Dean towel dried him after getting him out of the shower and into clean dry clothes.

Smirking at the clothes Charlie picked out for Sam but figured the looser sweat pants and T-shirt would work for the moment since when Sam was sick he almost always reverted back to looser stuff and probably after this time, knowing what Sam had gone through by reliving his time in Texas, it would be the same.

Taking enough time to strip, dry off and dress, Dean then got Sam back to his feet while being pleasantly happy and relieved that his brother didn’t seem to be dead weight this time even though it was clear that Sam would be weak for awhile as he slowly moved them down the hall.

A brief internal debate was had before Dean decided to just plant his little brother in his own room because if he was going to be sitting up until those puppy dog eyes opened then he’d at least sit up in his room.

Not to mention Sam’s room still lacked any of his brother’s charm and personality and the older brother figured he knew why that was but chose not to bring it up right then as he laid Sam down on his bed and held his breath for what seemed like hours instead of the three seconds it actually was.

Sam had been put through hell this time on top of the effects that the trials were having on him and a big part of Dean wasn’t sure if his brother could pull through it or, depending on what happened while he was gone, if Sam would even try.

Seeing his brother this still, this lifeless reminded Dean of the days after Death had restored Sam’s soul and all his brother did was lay perfectly still, which was so not the kid Dean had raised because in all his life Sammy was usually in constant motion in his sleep…especially if he was on edge.

“M’mm” Sam whispered a mumble that could’ve been anything as he slowly shifted on the Queen size memory foam bed until he was more on his side but as he moved he also seemed to reach out for something and didn’t appear satisfied until his stiff and sore fingers latched onto the flannel shirt that had been tossed on the bed days ago.

Pulling the shirt close to him, Sam burrowed his face between the flannel and the pillow before his body went fully limp and he stilled but his breathing was more normal, stronger and as Dean’s fingers carded back through still damp hair to rest on the side of Sam’s neck he felt his brother’s pulse beating strong and steady and smiled a little.

“She’s not going to hurt you or anyone else again, Sam,” he murmured, letting his hand stay a moment longer and hesitated in leaving Sam even long enough to go check on Charlie when a note and a box sitting on the desk in the room caught his eye and his interest.

“‘ _Hey, I figure you guys are gonna be busy and my good deed here was done so I figured it was cool for me to take off. I picked up some takeout and stuck it in the fridge, got more water and juice stuff for Sam and beer for you. Also, I left something else. Sam’ll be laid up a little so this will keep him from getting bored and well…I figured you’d get a…kick out of yours. So, call me if you need me and peace out, bitches.’”_

“She makes it really hard to be annoyed over the little things,” Dean shook his head while smiling a bit more freely as he took in what Charlie had left for Sam even though he’d make damn sure she got the money back for the tablet like thing that was an exact copy of the one she has that his brother had been drooling over.

Then he laid his hand on the book by Carver Edlund of his and Sam’s adventure with that damn black monster truck and he growled low in his throat, glad the fiery little firecracker had left so he couldn’t choke her with it.

“I want those books found and burned,” he growled, hating Chuck with a passion every time those damn books were brought back to haunt him but Dean put that on the back burner as he went to grab the first aid kit and other stuff so he wouldn’t have to leave the room as much until he was more confident that his brother was safe.

“It’s going to be alright, Sammy. Sure, I might have to drop the no chick flick rule for the next little while and yeah, I might actually be making you talk to me for a change but it’s over and it’s time to heal…for both of us,” Dean sat on the edge of his bed to dress the abrasions around Sam’s wrists and ankles while keeping his voice pitched low.

“Jeff might be calling to lecture me some more since he wasn’t really thrilled with the little mess I left him with and I know the rules were always we don’t kill humans unless they’re a threat well…” he paused to let his mind go back to seeing the fear in Sam to hearing what he had from that bastard he’d killed and he still couldn’t bring himself to regret what he’s done. “In my opinion they weren’t human and were a threat to you so that was all it took to enact ‘Dean Winchester’s number one rule’.

Dean wasn’t sure how his brother would feel if he learned the truth of what happened to Amelia or those with her and there were things that Dean didn’t plan on telling Sam if he could keep from it since it would bring back more to his brother.

Not knowing how much Sam would remember now or if his brother would even recall his past few days, Dean decided to wait and play it by ear but he did know that he owed his brother an apology.

Apologies and Dean didn’t always go hand and hand but he knew enough to know when he was wrong. He still didn’t think he’d lose the guilt of not seeing through Sam’s shell to see the lies for what they had been…a silent plea for some kind of help but he knew now and while it was too late to take it back he could heal some of the cracks that had broken between them.

A soft sound from the bed drew his attention back down to see that Sam’s face was getting that scrunchy look to it that had always, from the time he was a baby to now, meant something was wrong in his brother’s sleep and since Sam was prone to nightmares anyway he could see one coming from a mile away.

“Shhh, it’s okay, little brother. I’m here and you’re safe,” he promised firmly, voice husky as it usually went when deep emotions were on the horizon for them both. “Just sleep now and it’ll be better soon.”

It was the same promise he’d always offered Sam during the nights when bad dreams or a bad day with their Dad had left Sam raw and on edge.

Dean wasn’t certain if he still believed it or not but he’d do whatever it took to make sure it was better for Sam, once he could see how his brother was after waking up.

** Fourteen Hours Later: **

A rolling stomach, a pounding head along with pounding in every other part of his body, burning along his wrists and a mouth that really tasted like something from the sewer had died in it was how Sam Winchester finally began coming back to life.

Well, that and the hushed but clearly exasperated voice of his older brother. Without moving too much since Sam was fairly certain if he moved more than a half an inch at a time either his head would explode or whatever the hell was left on his stomach would come up and since a simple touch as well as smell told him this was Dean’s room and his brother would kill him if he puked on his memory foam bed.

Keeping his eyes closed to avoid any of that, Sam managed to move it enough that he could open one eye to look from under his lashes to see that Dean was pacing back and forth by the bed.

He was close enough to be at the bed in less than two steps but far enough away that whoever he was listening to on the phone and occasionally trying to get a word in with wouldn’t disturb him Sam realized, letting his eye close again to just listen and try to get his bearings again.

“No…but…so maybe they were monster alien shapeshifters out to rule the world or something,” Dean rushed that out to get the words in before he was cut off again, running his fingers back through his short hair which already showed signs of that. “Well, no they weren’t,” he admitted grudgingly, adding swiftly. “They could’ve been!”

Listening to the phone at his ear return to the mildly annoying lecturing tone he hated hearing as a teenager, Dean rolled his eyes while shifting a swift look to the bed to frown slightly as something caught his eye. “Lecture, Jeff. I told you there I don’t give a crap about what I did because those two assholes had it coming and she came at me with that damn blade so I’ll claim self-defense on that one until there are angels falling from the sky or…no, I am not blaspheming and…what’re you? Pastor Jim the second?” he growled.

Restless movement of stiff fingers on the flannel shirt that he hadn’t been able to free from his younger brother’s grasp took Dean’s attention away from the patiently lecturing Jefferson who’d chosen to remind Dean why killing humans took such a great deal of work to cover up.

“Uh, yeah, okay, Jeff,” he agreed, eyes locked on the bed and the slight change in Sam’s breathing and the way his brother’s muscles in his neck had tensed up; both sure signs that Sam was either awake or waking up and the call needed to end. “I’ll be sure to write one a blackboard one hundred times ‘humans are out friends’ even when they’re raving sociopathic sex fiends,” he replied then quickly disconnected from the older man to step closer to the bed. “You coming back to life now, baby boy?”

Wondering if he could pretend to still be sleeping, Sam debated for all of three seconds before a gentle hand curved around the back of his neck and just applied slight pressure to let him know the gig was up and he sighed. “…Y’know…you…sound like…Dad when you…call me that?” he winced at the sound of his own voice, feeling the bed dip down as his brother sat on the edge of it.

“If this wasn’t my bed I’d dump this on your head, Sam,” Dean threatened while holding the bottle of water up to Sam’s face so he could see it through rapidly blinking eyes. “Drink, swish, then spit,” he instructed in a tone perfected from being Sam’s big brother as he helped the younger man ease up to an elbow then supported him while Sam did just that.

Taking his time to swish the water around in his mouth, Sam took the time to gaze at his brother closely while trying to lock onto his memories of what the hell had hit him.

Dean looked as ragged as his voice sounded and he could tell that his brother hadn’t slept in awhile because there were too many dark circles under those green eyes that were currently locked on his face.

Also, the more than day old stubble gave away that Dean hadn’t been too far because his brother always shaved in the morning unless he was sitting with Sam. Finally, the combination of junk food and take out papers scattered in Dean’s usually neater than Sam’s own room practically screamed that Dean had been right by him.

Spitting the water into the waiting trashcan, Sam let his head fall back onto the pillow with a groan then took a moment to examine the bandages around his wrists as it began to come back to him and he felt himself tense only to have the fingers on his neck squeeze again in a way he knew was Dean’s old time way of giving support.

Closing his eyes to stop the room from spinning, Sam remembered the phone calls from Amelia. He recalled his reactions, and knowing he needed to lock himself up in the new dungeon while trying to work out a way around whatever the hell she’d done to him.

Sam hadn’t honestly remembered a lot of his time with Amelia and what he did recall he know realized weren’t all his memories but the ones she wanted him to have so he’d be more dormant and dependent on her.

Now as he laid here on his brother’s bed, it was like waking up for the first time only he wished what he remembered now could just be wished away as nightmares but he knew they couldn’t.

“Sam…look at me,” Dean sounded serious, his voice was the deep husky one he used only when serious and his emotions were on the surface and that scared Sam more than what he was feeling and seeing because his big brother did not willingly do emotions. “Sammy.”

It was the way he said ‘Sammy’, the stress on it, that had the younger man slowly opening his eyes to hesitantly look back to meet his brother’s eyes.

Sam wasn’t sure what he was expecting to see reflected there since he wasn’t really clear on how much Dean had picked up or…flashes of Charlie sitting with him came and it began to click.

His brother had found him in the dungeon; he’d listened to those damn voicemails. Dean had figured out a good chunk of the eleven months of Sam’s life that Sam was only now starting to recall fully and his brother had gone to…

Feeling Sam begin to shake more as his memories came back in a rush, Dean was quick to take his brother’s chin in his hand in order to lift it up so their eyes locked. “Listen to me. Whatever it going on in that big brain of yours right now…forget it. You had no control, Sammy. The bitch drugged you and kept you drugged. You fought as best as you could and what happened was not your fault and it’s over,” he declared firmly, seeing and hating the tears welling.

“I…I didn’t…I’d have nightmares but it all seemed so…I let you think I didn’t look for you…that I…walked away from…God, Dean…” Sam’s voice was barely above a whisper as he tried to push himself upright only to collapse back to the bed and a hand on his chest, over his heart, kept him still while looking up. “I wanted to tell you…every time you brought it up I wanted to say what I thought really happened but…it was like I couldn’t,” he closed his eyes but snapped them open as swirling images of being chained and raped rushed back.

Expecting Dean to reply or close off like he had been doing whenever the subject of the year apart came up, Sam was mildly surprised when his brother stayed quiet and just kept his touch light enough to let Sam feel comfort but not held down as he slowly scooted back so he was sitting up a little more.

“I hit the dog while on the way to check out a lead in Houston. I was tired and desperate after looking for you. I needed to find you because I knew I couldn’t do it again…I couldn’t go on like I did when you went to…” Sam stopped; mention of Dean going to Hell still a sore spot for him, before struggling to refocus on what he was trying to say. “When I hit Riot, I remember his name but not being held and treated no better than an animal, I took him to the only clinic I could find and…I…she was always too close to me when she called me back.

“Her hands were touching me and I felt the same way I did when I was sixteen, knowing I needed to get out but…I wasn’t quick enough again,” he whispered, fingers slowly curling and uncurling without even being aware of it. “I think I made some excuse to leave but then I felt this little pain in my hip and…the next thing I know I’m chained to some wall and…I couldn’t move.

“I shouted, I screamed but no one heard or something cause it was only Amelia in the beginning,” getting more on edge but seeming to need to talk, Sam was slowly able to sit up on the side of the bed and as he looked at his bare feet on the floor he could see the same kind of bandages wrapped around his ankles and guessed he’d been struggling in the chains in the dungeon.

Sam felt Dean shift so they were sitting side by side but his mind was trying not to go too deep and so he didn’t feel the arm that had been wrapped around his shoulders to ease him closer as he began to tell his brother what he reminded.

He wasn’t sure why it was so important that he do this but Sam knew that he almost felt lighter with every sordid thing he revealed that he now remembered happening to him.

“I…wanted you but I knew that this was the one time that you wouldn’t be crashing through the door to save your stupid little brother and…then either she was getting bored or something but she eased off the drugs and you called out of the blue…and I just heard your voice and grabbed my stuff and ran,” Sam kept his head down to avoid looking at his brother, either not feeling or not caring about the tears running down his cheeks from remembering so much pain and misery.

“I just knew it be safe with you but then you asked if I looked for you and…I wanted to break down and tell you what I could remember or what I thought had happened but it was like there was a lock or something and I…I couldn’t say one damn thing about…what she…they…and you hated me so much for it…Dean?”

Realizing for the first time about the arm holding him, Sam looked up to see dried tear tracks on his brother’s normally stoic face and his breath caught because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen this much pure emotion in Dean’s eyes.

“I should’ve known something was wrong the first time you gave me that story about hitting a dog and walking away for normal. I should’ve known something was wrong the first month when all you did at night was whimper and call out for me to help you but I was still so raw and on the edge from Purgatory that I was looking for someone to lash at out and…Sammy, that turned out to be you,” Dean sighed, feeling the tension in Sam but not letting go like he would’ve any other time.

Dean knew his brother better than he knew himself and after nearly thirty four years of taking care of Sam, well thirty three since he seemed to have lost a year while stuck in Hell’s backyard, he knew how Sam would react to things.

That’s why he made sure to keep his arm around Sam’s shoulders as both a way to support him should he go to fall forward and to offer the support that he always should’ve been giving his little brother.

“Sammy, you got dropped into a situation that was totally alien to you when Cas and I got sucked into Purgatory after ganking Dick Roman,” he began, letting his fingers lightly trace familiar sigils on Sam’s shoulder like he had when they’d been kids. “When I went to Hell, you had Bobby and Ellen even if you didn’t go to them. Hell, even when you were Robo-Sam you worked with Mom’s family.”

Dean had to grit his teeth on that last word since it still bugged him about the Campbell side of his family and what Samuel clearly knew and let happen to Sam but right then he made himself focus on his still sick and weak little brother.

“You’ve never been on your own, not fully…not like you found yourself this time. You were scared and confused and the bitch drugged you, little brother. I know you fought it as much as you could but Sammy… there are some drugs you can’t fight and we both know that,” he reached over to tilt Sam’s head back up and saw some of the fear and shame slowly going away.

“I’m sorry I doubted you and I’m sorry for all the crap I said to you because there is no one, not one living or not living soul on this planet that could be a better brother to me than you, Sammy,” Dean tried to cover the slight break in his voice as a cough but it was hard when he suddenly had his arms full of a raggedly breathing little brother. “Alright, I’ll give you this one,” he muttered in a way to let Sam know he was fine and the walls could come down.

In his heart Sam had feared how his brother would react to this because with all the stress between them as of late it was sometimes hard to tell what reaction Dean would have but hearing him say that on top of things that he thought he remembered from earlier caused the younger man to just turn and hold on to the one person that he’d come to depend on since he’d been small.

The first broken sob had Dean tightening his arms and just sitting still until Sam had gotten it all, or most of it, out of his system and then had kept his brother where he was until he began to feel Sam’s rigid muscles relax slowly.

“You good now, baby boy?” he asked lightly, trying to break some of the heaviness in the room and feeling himself relax at the muffled laugh since Sam still had his face buried against Dean’s neck.

Dean knew Sam would remember their Dad calling Sam that when he was still a chubby baby turned into a chubby toddler who was learning to crawl then walk to his big brother. He also knew the last time had been after that damn party when Sam was sixteen and Dean had let his guard down enough to think their Dad would know enough to watch after Sam a bit better.

While he had no end of useful nicknames for his brother, some that could even be used in polite company, he knew that while it had annoyed Sam to no end when their Dad would use it he just seemed to roll his eyes with that tiny little smile that told his brother it was okay for him to use it and he still did infrequently or when he wanted to see that little grin.

“Yeah, as good as I can be I suppose,” Sam admitted, slowly easing back but stilled as soon as he felt the grip on the back of his neck then he suddenly dropped his eyes for a long minute. “Dean…did you kill Amelia?”

All of the teasing chick flick comments that had been on the tip of his tongue fled as he felt his head buzz with all the ways to answer that without really answering when he seen the way Sam was tugging at a frayed spot on the knee of his sweatpants and sighed.

“If I say ‘yes’ will you go all righteous on me about how it’s wrong to kill a human even if it’s a psycho bitch of one who got herself out of some cuffs and came at me with a blade?” Dean countered warily, adding with a snort. “Cause I’ll tell you right now Jefferson took some lessons from Pastor Jim when he lit into me about having to clean up the bodies.”

Sam chewed his bottom lip while considering how he should be feeling. He knew on the one hand they’d both been taught to never kill a human unless there was no way around it but he also didn’t miss his brother’s use of the word ‘bodies’ which told him that Amelia hadn’t been alone and that Dean had gone in alone against odds that were against him.

He also knew or suspected that if his brother killed Amelia that was what had sent his whole body into overload that one time. Her death had short circuited whatever link she’d forced on him when she’d made him drink her blood while she bit him to suck his.

Feeling the tension that was practically vibrating off of Dean as he waited to see what he said or thought, Sam took a deep breath before slowly meeting Dean’s eyes again with a shaky, nearly shy, smile that was one of pure gratitude. “Thank you,” he murmured, the relief of knowing she was gone and couldn’t come back or hurt him with anything again was huge in Sam’s chest.

“That’s what awesome big brothers are for, Sammy,” Dean smiled fully while carding his fingers back through Sam’s hair and laughed as Sam’s grumble before lightly nudging his shoulder until Sam got the point and laid back against the pillows. “I may never get Charlie to babysit for you again though,” he remarked, feeling Sam’s hand latch onto his wrist. “Relax. She was fine when I got back here. Just a little pissed at me for not being faster and she left something for you.”

Sam could remember seeing and hearing Charlie but after his body started reacting in ways he didn’t like and then when his blood actually felt like it was on fire he knew he’d wanted her to be well away from him. “I think I made her tie the chains tighter before telling her to stay out of the room,” he saw Dean’s nod and knew he was right. “I hated the dark and just wanted you to come back…then something happened and I…must have passed out…Dean, how’d I get clean?”

Running his tongue over his teeth at that one, Dean reached to grab what Charlie had left for his brother while debating how far he could tease Sam right then. “How did you ever get clean when you were sick or hurt and smelling rank?” he returned lightly, hearing the groan as Sam’s head flopped back and he caught the light tint of red creeping up on his brother’s still pale cheeks. “Hey, it’s not like I haven’t stripped you down and got you all nice and clean…though you do owe me big for this one cause…dude, you reeked.”

“I’ll clean the…” Sam started to say, guessing the dungeon was probably a mess if he’d been even half as bad as what his brother was saying when a firm shake of Dean’s head cut him off.

“Uh-huh. Ain’t no way in Hell are you going close to that room, Sammy,” Dean refused flat out and with all the stubbornness he’d learned from being a big brother. “Unless we’re getting nuked and you going in there is the only way to save our lives…then we’ll discuss it but until then you are banned from the dungeon. Got it?”

Swallowing because Sam understood that while Dean often teased him and such this wasn’t his joking way of putting his foot down. This was his absolute deadly serious ‘you do not want to screw with me on this matter’ tone of voice and slowly nodded.

“Yeah, De’n, I got it,” he murmured, yawning since now that he knew the threat was over and he felt like he and Dean were on a much better level than before he felt it safe to sleep but felt the box nudging into his hands and knew that Dean wanted him to look at whatever their friend had left.

Rubbing his eyes in a way that had Dean smirking, Sam blinked and then blinked again before tearing into the box with the tablet like a kid on Christmas morning before eyeing his brother. “Charlie leave this or did you…?”

“Hey, I was going to buy you one the next trip to a decent mall but I guess she got tired of you drooling over hers and before you ask no she didn’t drool over Dad’s journal this trip,” Dean replied, standing up with a lot more aches and pains than he was willing to let show right then. “Will this keep you busy while I go heat you up some soup cause I don’t want you faceplanting on my floor while I’m gone and you need to eat.”

Sam only heard half of that as he was totally engrossed with the tablet, no longer feeling tired and just wanting to play but he looked up only to see a mildly indulging smile on Dean’s face and smiled back. “Uh, sorry. Yeah, I’ll stay right here,” he promised, fingers sliding on the touchscreen when another thought came to him. “Dean, why am I in your room?”

“Because that’s where I put you and it’s where you’re staying until you keep two full bowls of soup down and don’t look like death warmed over anymore,” Dean called over his shoulder as he walked out the door while muttering something that sounded faintly like ‘two beds in that damn room’ to Sam.

Sam waited until he could no longer hear his brother’s steps before leaning back to let his eyes fall closed with the tablet still clutched to his chest.

This time as Sam closed his eyes he didn’t see the memories of his time with Amelia and what was done. He didn’t feel the pain or shame like he was worried that he would. No, this time he thought of the good times in his life and most of it was times with Dean when they’d been kids or even since he left Stanford since Sam could admit that there had been good times these last eight years.

Feeling safe in both mind and body, Sam wasn’t even aware of curling on his side and falling to sleep nor did he hear Dean grumbling about cold soup and pain in the ass little brothers.

Sitting the tray of soup, crackers and Gatorade on the dresser, Dean grabbed another blanket to toss over Sam before he eased his suddenly aching body down on the edge of the other side of his mattress to lean his back against the headboard to reach with one hand over to keep it against the back of Sam’s neck while grabbing that damn book with the other.

“I would kill Chuck if I knew where he vanished to,” he muttered after reading just one mind blowing chapter and vowing to burn the thing before Sam got his hands on it.

After watching carefully for another hour to be certain that Sam was resting and looked to be sleeping peacefully, Dean bunched a pillow up to shove it behind his head before closing his own eyes.

It had been at least three days since he’d actually done more than take little naps here and there while watching his brother and as the knowledge that Sam was safe and he didn’t seem to be suffering any ill effects from whatever that woman had done to his little brother, he slowly let himself fall to sleep.

Years of sleeping in the same room had given Dean a sixth sense if Sam would wake up or need him and with that worry gone, he felt himself begin to fall to sleep while also wondering if he could knock down a wall in this place because if the trials were going to knock his baby brother on his ass then this two room thing just wasn’t going to cut it anymore.

Dean might have liked having his own room but he also liked to know where Sam was and that Sam was safe while they slept and if that meant knocking down a wall and also padlocking the dungeon then that’s what’d he do because being big brother, no matter how old Sam got, would always be his number one priority.

“G’night, Sammy,” he whispered, smirking as a low mumble was heard and he thought of clippers and his little brother’s hair as he drifted off into a well-deserved sleep, not caring at the moment what tomorrow might bring since he wasn’t letting Sam move until he was sure the kid could handle it and that was also final as far as Dean was concerned.

 

**The End**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read this one. I certainly hope you enjoyed it.

**Author's Note:**

> How Amelia’s fate will turn in this one I don’t know yet since she plays a bit more active part in the next chapter. We’ll see. This one took a couple weird turns on me so I hope you guys will stick it out for the next chapter and as always feel free to look me up on Facebook under morgana07 for questions or concerns. Thanks.


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